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FISITS OF MERCY; 

BEING THE 

JOURNAL 

OF 

THE STATED PREACHER 

TO THE 

HOSPITAL AND ALMSHOUSE, 

IN 

THE CITY OF NEW-YORK, 
1811. 

by y 

THE REV. E. S. ELY, 

OF NEW- YORK, 

Recommended ly several Ministers in England and America . 



- 



3 . 



O might the mantle soon descend, 

That Howards gentle spirit clad ; 
Give human kind a general friend, 

And make the sons of sorrow glad! 
Are there, who groan in haunts obscure, 

Whence Misery banishes the gay ; 
The pale, the sick, the shivering poor,—' 

And shall we tarn our eyes away 5 

Beck, 



NEW-YORK: PRINTED. 

Houdoi: ; 

HE-PRINTED (WITH THE AUTHOR'S APPROBATION) FOR WILLIAMS 
AND SON, STATIONERS* COIRT ; ANE SOLD BY J, NE-3BIT, 15^ 
CASTLE STREET, OXFORD STREET, 

1313. 



*^ «v< 



** r 



RECOMxMENDATIONS 

BY THE 

Rev. ALEXANDER WAUGH, A.M. 

Minister of the Scots' Church, Well Street, Mary-U-bon* j 

THE 

Rev. GEORGE COLLISON, 

Minister of the Independent Churchy Walthamstow ; 

AND THE 

Rev. THADDEUS OSGOOD, 

Of America. 



A man is doing honour to his own heart in 
recommending to the public notice the following 
"Journal," very appropriately entitled "Visits 
of Mercy." The excellent Author seems to 
have drunk deep at the spirit of Him, whose 
"bosom was the dwelling place of pity, and who 
went about doing good. What a blessing to the 
work-houses, the hospitals, and other recepta- 
cles of poverty and disease, especially in great 
cities, were men of his ability, discernment, and 



tenderness of heart, the persons appointed to 
perform in them the duties of the Christian 
ministry ! 

In every page of the work we recognize the 
"man of feeling;" but it is the feeling of a re- 
newed heart, enlarged as is the range of human 
wretchedness, purified by the indwelling Spirit 
of God, and ennobled by the model on which 
it is formed. We assure ourselves of the thanks 
of every humane and pious mind in respect- 
fully introducing a work so happily fitted to 
soften, to cleanse, and to exalt the heart of man, 
and give energy to the best affections of our 
mature. 

ALEXANDER WAUGH, 
GEORGE COLLISON* 



Having been personally acquainted with the 
Author in -America, and by his request having 
assisted him in giving advice and instructions to 
the poor in New- York, I had an opportunity of 
witnessing his zeal and fidelity in the work of his 
Divine Master, and of hearing him read a part 
of the following pages, before they were given 
to the public,— »I therefore cordially concur in 
recommending this work, as worthy of the perusal 
of all, and particularly of those who are engaged 
in visiting and instructing the sick and the poor; 
and do sincerely pray, that the Great Head of 
the Church may bless these pious anecdotes and 
useful hints to the edification and spiritual im- 
provement of many in this kingdom, through 
which it is hoped they may find a rapid circula- 
tion. 

TPIADDEUS OSGOOD.* 



* The Rev. Mr. Osgood, of America, is himself on a 
" Visit of Mercy" to this country, haying come with the 
most respectable recommendations, to solicit donations to 
enable him to distribute Bibles and Tracts — to establish 
small school libraries, and asylums for the destitute poor 
of Canada, 

£ee Evan. Mug. for May } and the Christim Observer? 
for April, 1813. 



AMERICAN RECOMMENDATION, 



BY 



PHILIP MILLEDOLER, D. D, 

To the Members of the Presbyterian and Reformed 
Dutch Churches, in the city of New- York. 

Dear Brethren, 

It is well known to many of you, that the 
Almshouse and Hospital of this city were, pre- 
viously to the year 1810, in a very destitute 
situation, in point of Gospel privileges. Whilst 
unremitting care has been exercised in those im- 
portant institutions, for preserving the lives and 
health of their inhabitants, the immortal part, 
uncherished and uncultivated, has been suffered 
to pine away with famine of the word of God. 

The attention of the religious public has, for 
some time past, been called to this subject, by 
the Rev. Ezra Stiles Ely, a member of the 
Presbytery of New- York. In June, 1810, he 
began to preach in the Almshouse, and in the 
month of October, of the same year, in the Hos- 
pital. In November following, a form of sub- 
scription was drafted, and subscribed by a number 
of individuals, who were principally of the Pres- 
byterian and Dutch communion of this city, for 
the maintenance of the Gospel in those places, 
Mr, Ely was retained as their Stated Preacher, 

A 



2 

and has laboured in the charge assigned him, 
from that time to the present, with approved 
ability, and indefatigable zeal. 

Of the nature and success of his labours, some 
estimate maj be formed from the interesting 
journal contained in this book. The writer of 
this address has not read the whole journal, but 
judges from what he has seen, that it will excite 
greater attention to the subject of which it treats 
than has ever yet existed. These documents 
prove their author to have taken a deep interest 
in his work. They prove also, with overwhelm- 
ing conviction, the importance of missionary la- 
bour, in those asylums of wretchedness and woe, 
with which he has been conversant. 

It is with extreme regret, that we have wit- 
nessed the failure of pecuniary resources in the 
prosecution of his designs. It is a fact, however, 
which ought not to be concealed, although he has 
requested me to be silent on the subject, that our 
missionary has hitherto laboured in that point, 
under the most distressing embarrassments. Sole- 
ly dependant on a precarious subscription, which 
he has now entirely relinquished, his receipts 
have never exceeded half the necessary support 
of a single man. For want of proper arrange- 
ments at the outset, he has been under the dis- 
agreeable necessity of being his own solicitor^ 
accountant, and collector. Having commenced 
his labours under a plan radically defective, he 
has submitted to all the evils growing out of it 3 * 



and for two years has faithfully preached Jesus 
Christ and him crucified in the Almshouse ; and 
for the same time, lacking only a few days, in the 
Hospital. 

Shall an object of such magnitude as this, my 
brethren, in such a city as this, be abandoned, 
or even suspended, for want of pecuniary aid? 
Great as it is in its present and eternal conse- 
quences, shall it be suffered to languish and die 
under our eyes: No, it is hoped and believed 
that it will not be abandoned. 

That efficient measures should be taken for the 
continuance of the Gospel in those institutions, 
will appear, 

1st. From the importance of the object. 

By the last report of the Superintendent of 
the Almshouse, there were 1409 persons depen- 
dant on that institution. Of this number it is 
supposed that 800 at least are capable of receiv- 
ing religious instruction. The Hospital admits 
of not less than a thousand different patients in 
the course of each year; some of these remain a 
few weeks, and others several months. Two 
hundred persons, on an average, annually die in 
the two institutions. What a field of labour does 
this offer to a faithful ministry! Here are some 
insane persons, in whose case the prudent con- 
verse of a spiritual physician may advantageously 
second the efforts of medical skill. Here many 
children need instruction, who. without it, might 
become the future pests of societv. Here are 
a 2 



pious souls, oppressed with poverty and disease, 
who hail the approach of a minister of Jesus, 
with almost as much joy and gratitude, as if he 
were an angel from heaven. There are, doubt- 
less, some who enter these institutions with minds 
shrouded in ignorance, and hearts hardened in 
sin: to them, how necessary is it that divine in- 
struction should be communicated, and one more 
effort made to snatch them from perdition ! Such 
an attempt is intercepting them from the very 
borders of destruction. Whatever may be the 
issue, it is interesting, it is rational, it is godlike. 
That men are often called to repentance by afflic- 
tive dispensations of Providence, who will deny ? 
When their bodies are wasting with disease, or 
their souls sinking in despondence, dark is that 
mind which does not anticipate futurity, and hard 
that heart which is uninfluenced by the Gospel. 
There are such characters, we know ; but on the 
other hand, are there not many who will have 
eternal cause to rejoice in afflictions, sanctified 
by grace to their salvation ? 

To extend the glad tidings of salvation, is a 
great christian duty; and the true disciples of 
Jesus every where acknowledge it. To fulfil this 
duty, missionary societies have been formed in 
our own country, as well as in Europe. Distant 
missions to the heathen have been planned and 
executed. That spirit which has deplored their 
situation, and attempted their relief, we honour 
and rejoice in. But shall w r e neglect missionary 



ground under our eye, and at our very doors ? 
Whilst we explore far distant regions of mission- 
ary labour, shall we pass over our own fields, 
which are whitening to the harvest? The wis- 
dom of such conduct is exceedingly questionable. 
The soul of a pauper in the Almshouse of New- 
York, is as valuable as the soul of an Indian on 
the banks of the Ganges. Whilst our eyes then 
are turned to the distant harvest fields, let us not 
leave our own uncultivated, or ungathered. 

To urge the necessity of immediate attention to 
this subject, I would observe, 

2dly. That if any thing is done, it must be 
done by individuals. 

Benefactions of a public or private nature, may 
hereafter forward this work of charity; but the 
foundation of it must be laid in individual enter- 
prise. It is doubted whether the Corporation 
of this city have power to appropriate any part 
of their funds for the support of a religious in- 
structor in the Almshouse. If they have not, it 
cannot be expected: if they have, they may wish 
to avoid the charge of partiality to a particular 
denomination. 

Jealousy between different denominations, in a 
case like this, never has, and we have reason to 
believe from the nature of it, never w r ill, appear. 
Be this however as it may, something should be 
done for the relief of these institutions, as soon 
as possible. We acknowledge it as a just princi- 
ple, that privileges extended to one denomina-- 
a 3 



tion, should be equally allowed to others: and 
that favours conferred on one, should be common 
to all. As we, therefore, arrogate to ourselves 
no exclusive privilege, none can have a right to 
complain. 

It may be supposed by some, that if the clergy 
should visit those institutions in their turn, it 
would supersede the necessity of employing a 
missionary. Such an objection, if made, is found- 
ed in ignorance of the situation of the clergy, as 
w r ell as of the duties to be performed by such a 
missionary. The writer of this address is per- 
suaded that the ministers of the Gospel in this 
city are disposed to do their duty : but he also 
knows that a faithful observance of duties in their 
own charges is enough, and in many instances 
more than enough, to occupy their whole time 
and attention. Such of the laity as are best ac- 
quainted with ecclesiastical affairs, know this 
statement to be correct. But again, if they are 
to preach in those institutions, they ought to offi- 
ciate on the sabbath, and must consequently leave 
their own churches unsupplied. But occasional 
preaching is not the whole, nor even a principal 
part of what is to be done in those institutions. 
The persons charged with the spiritual care of 
them should be daily at his post. To form an 
acquaintance with his charge, to know their cha- 
racters, to exhort and rebuke with all long-suffer- 
ing and gentleness, to dry away the tears of the 
afflicted, to pour oil and wine into the festering 



wounds of a broken hearted mourner, to counsel 
and pray with the dying, and daily to preach 
from ward to ward, and from couch to couch, 
Jesus and the resurrection — these are a specimen 
of the labours of a missionary in those houses ; 
and if this be not done, the object to be accom- 
plished, is not, and cannot be, attained. 

Can all these duties be performed by the sta- 
tioned pastors of this city ? No, it is impossible ; 
the}' may mourn over the omission, but they can- 
not supply it. Abundantly furnished with the 
means of grace for ourselves, brethren, are we 
not called by every consideration that can in- 
fluence the human mind, to extend these bless- 
ings to the poor, the destitute, and the friendless? 
It is characteristical of the Gospel, that it should 
be preached to the poor; and shall we suffer 
them to starve at our doors for the bread of life ? 
Can we excuse it to our consciences, or can we 
answer it to our God ? " Freely ye have received, 
freely give," was a command of Christ to his dis- 
ciples ; a command which will apply to us, in 
relation to this subject, with peculiar emphasis. 
The members of Christ may suffer, but they are 
his members still; and let us not forget that what 
is done for the least of these his brethren in tri- 
bulation, he will graciously consider as done unto 
himself. 

You will undoubtedly pardon the author of 
this address, brethren, for the liberty he has 
taken, lie has felt himself constrained to be ur- 



8 

gent on this subject. The object held up to your 
view he considers of incalculable importance, and 
deprecates the idea of its abandonment. He 
knows there are many claims on your liberality, 
but who among you is the poorer for them all ? 
We live in troublous times, but shall we there- 
fore cease to live actively for Christ ? If what 
has been said, shall have a tendency to draw your 
attention to this subject, he will think it an hon- 
our to associate with such as may wish to carry it 
into effect. And if he can be in any wise in- 
strumental in fixing the Gospel on a permanent 
foundation in those institutions, he will consider 
it as one of the happiest events of his life. 

That it may please God in all things to direct 
you, and that grace, mercy, and peace, from God 
our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ, may be 
multiplied to you and yours, is the prayer of, 

Dear brethren, 

Your friend and servant in the Lord, 

PH, MILLEDOLER, 

New-York, ' 

Sept. 16, 1812, 



author's preface. 



The author of the following Journal, is 
now happy to gratify many of his friends, 
who have long urged the publication of it. 
To all those, who have contributed to the 
propagation of the Gospel among the poor 
of this city, it is respectfully inscribed ; 
and particularly to the Rev. John B. Ro- 
meyn, d. d. whose indisposition has pre- 
vented him from performing that friendly 
service which he promised, of introducing 
this work to the public. He has ever 
cherished the author in his ministerial la- 
bours, and having sympathized with the 
afflicted poor, was determined to plead 
their cause, His benevolent heart will 
unite with me in gratitude to our inestirna- 



ble friend, the Rev. Philip Milledoler, 
d. d. for having performed the intended 
labour of love. 

To be insensible to the commendations 
of the good, would be unchristian. The 
author thanks Dr. Milledoler for his fa- 
vourable sentiments and personal friend- 
ship. His grateful approbation, however, 
should not meet the public eye, were it 
not for the hope, that the Doctor's address 
will prove instrumental in founding a so- 
ciety for the support of the Gospel in the 
Hospital and Almshouse, which shall be 
as lasting as those institutions. The writer 
may express this hope, without the im- 
putation of selfishness ; for, having per- 
formed "a tour of duty, 5 ' he would wish 
to retire, and give place to some more 
valiant soldier of the cross. He does not 
plead, nor desire others to plead, for him- 
self. Every motive of a personal nature, 
which presents itself to his mind, urges his 
resignation ; and, possibly, it might pro- 
mote the cause of Christ, to maintain such 



xi 

a rotation ill the Stated Preacher's office, 
as would give many young ministers the 
opportunity of becoming familiar with 
wretchedness and death. " It is good for 
a man that he bear the yoke in his youth." 
The writer has, therefore, relinquished all 
subscriptions in his favour; but will never 
cease to plead, that the Gospel may be 
preached to the poor within our cities — to 
the pagans who sit in the darkness of 
death— to " every creature." 

E. S. Ely, 



VISITS OF MERCY: 

A 

JOURNAL, 



January 1st, 1811. 

" . . . He that finds 

44 One drop of Heaven's sweet mercy in his cwp, 
" Can dig, beg, rot, and perish, well content, 
" So he may wrap himself in honest rags, 
" At his last gasp." 

Cowper. 

feiNCE the first of October last, the patients in the 
Hospital have had the opportunity of hearing one dis- 
course on every Lord's day. Out of the two hundred 
persons in this institution, about half have been suffi- 
ciently restored to health to attend public worship. All 
pay a decent, many a solemn, and some a devout atten- 
tion to the preached Gospel. Several persons, by their 
dying convictions and anxieties, have excited a deep 
interest in my heart ; but since I did not then write a 
description of their last glimmerings, I shall not now 
attempt it. In future, some of the most interesting 
cases which present themselves shall be recorded in 
" the short, and simple annals of the poor." 

B 



14 THREE CASES STATED. 

Previous to this date, I have delivered twenty-three 
discourses in the Almshouse. The poor in this Institu- 
tion throng the places of public worship: and rarely 
have I had the pleasure of witnessing, in any audience, 
more lively gratitude for the glorious Gospel of the grace 
of God. Most assemblies, from the frequency of preach- 
ing, and from the circumstance of their supporting the 
ministry, appear to consider the messages of grace a 
matter of course ; and ministers of reconciliation, ser- 
vants sold to discharge a pecuniary debt : but these 
poor people consider every exhibition of divine com- 
passion to be really a gratuitous offering on the part of 
God. To them the Gospel is a gift to which they have 
no claim, and foi which many of them bless the grace 
of our Lord Jesus Christ 

In sonie instances, I am constrained to believe, that 
the a ion of the word has been accompanied by 

a divine and saving influence. Some have been con- 
vinced of sin: some aged believers comforted ; and, I 
trust . : converted. At present, I will simply state 
the case of three persons ; and in future, record events 
as they pass, or leave them in obscurity until the reve- 
lation oi the last day. 

An aged woman i and instructed in 

ich appertain tc lert peace For 

three or ys, with the intermission of only a tew 

i es thost ' : - exclaim, 

£i O Loi i vile sinner: I deserve hell; 

but, Oh! pardon mc Lord J-sus, 

I come ro thee. I bee, I trust in thee:" and 

with these expressions on her lif 

A J =nt; -seven years of age, 

was is last sickness. When I ;hed 



VAIN HOPES, 15 



• 



him, he was convulsed with coughing, which was ex- 
cited in part by the smoke of a very offensive pipe, 
which an old man was using in a distant part of the 
room. The sick man told me he should soon recover, 
could he be delivered from that tormenting smoke. His 
lungs, however, were affected by something worse than 
the fumes of tobacco. At my reproof, and request, the 
pipe was abandoned, and all who were in the room drew 
around the sick man's bed to listen to our discourse, 
For a time, the young mem was determined that he would 
recover, and flattered himself, as people commonly do, 
whose vitals are withering with the consumption. Frank- 
lv I told him, that I saw the presage of death in his eyes. 
"What do you see in my eyes P demanded he, and 
covered them from observation. "They are glossy : but 
whether you live or die, it is desirable that you should 
know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, who gave 
himself to death for the redemption of enemies. He 
died for sinners ; for such sinners as we are; and with 
a desire that von should be saved by him, I come to 
speak of Jesus. But I would not impose my discourse 
upon you," He turned his face to me again, but would 
not admit that he might soon die. I attempted to con- 
vince him of sin, and of the righteousness which is in 
Christ. He requested me to pray for him; and after 
prayer was offered, I had the satisfaction, sweet and 
mournful to the souL of hearing him, who had sedu- 
lously excluded the thoughts of death and judgment 
from his mind, confess, "Weil! I am a sinner! O I am 
a sinner !" This he repeated three times, with such pe- 
culiarity of emphasis, as to convince all present, that 
the confession had never before escaped from his lips. 

B 2 



16 AN AGED SINNER IN DISTRESS, 

I saw him no more; for soon after this interview lie de- 
parted from the earth. 

The last case which I shall state, is that of an aged 
woman, who for three or four weeks, while attending 
to the concerns of her own soul, was in wretchedness, 
little inferior to tiiat of despair. When she heard the 
word of God, she trembled like a criminal receiving the 
sentence of condemnation. She was an object of pity 
to all who knew her, and could feel sympathy with the 
miserable. She was fervently remembered in prayer, 
by those who personally knew the joys of pardoned sin. 
Formerly she had entertained hope of acceptance with 
God ; but she had departed from her Comforter, and 
now she was the prey of a guilty conscience. While 
she was in this situation, I was prevailed upon by some 
sick persons to preach once more than usual in the 
week. For this third discourse I had selected a subject, 
and was prepared to speak, but did not commit even 
the text to paper. While on my way to the place of 
worship, I reviewed my plan, and thought I retained it 
perfectly. But in the prayer before sermon, the words 
of the apostle, recorded in Romans v. 1. took posses- 
sion of my whole soul. "Therefore, being justified by 
faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus 
Christ.'' My former text, and the whole arrangement 
of thought, were gone from me. The attempt to find 
the place, and recall the perfectly familiar subject, was 
vain. This was a sufficient intimation of my duty, and 
by divine assistance, I descanted freely on justification 
by faith, and that peace with God, through our Lord 
Jesus Christ, which results from it. While speaking, I 
did not know that this distressed woman was present ; 
but when about to leave the room, she arose from her 



THE EXTEMPORE SERMON, 17 

seat behind the door, detained me by holding my coat, 
and then, clasping my hands, wet them with tears. She 
would have spoken, but seemed unable. "This woman/' 
I said, turning to a judicious friend, who had accom- 
panied me to judge of the expediency of preaching the 
Gospel in this place, "is the person of whose deep con- 
victions of sin I have often told you." " O yes, sir V 
she exclaimed, with inexpressible emotions, " and I feel 
myself as wicked now, as 1 did then. I'm a poor vile 
sinner; but I think, being justified by faith, I begin 
again to have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus 
Christ." " Do you perceive/' it was asked, " that God 
can be just in justifying the ungodly, who believe ; and 
is Christ precious to you?" She replied, " I think Christ 
has now got the highest place in my heart, and, O, I 
pray God, he would aye keep him there!" My com- 
panion, as well as myself, was rendered speechless, by 
the tenderness of her love to Jesus; and we passed 
away, under the full conviction, if not the exhilarating 
impression, that unto those who believe, He is precious* 



January dth* 

This is the desert, this the solitude; 
How populous, how vital is the grave!" 



Young, 



This afternoon, a dying man at the Hospital sent a 
request to see me. I went immediately ; but it was too 
late for a spiritual physician to learn any of the peculiar 
symptoms of his spiritual malady. With all his exer- 
tions, he could not speak* In such a case, what could 
be done, but make a general application of the Balm of 
Giiead] I addressed him as a sinner, in the last hour of 
b 3 



18 FLATTERY OF DISEASE. 

life, with this instigation to faithfulness ; " he will very 
soon give an account of this interview to God." He 
signified that he wished me to pray. After I had com- 
plied with his desire, I turned my attention to eight or 
ten miserable companions ia sickness, who could not 
probably long survive the death of the departing per- 
son. They felt for him. but were almost unconcerned 
for themselves. They calculated upon recovery. How 
lamentably true is that declaration, 

i; All men think all men mortal but themselves [" 

In half an hour after I left the house, the sick man died; 
and in the same afternoon, two other patients followed 
te the state of the dead. 



January 6th. 

; ' How many fall a? sudden, not as safe : 

k - As sudden, though for years admonish'd home* 

" Of human ills, the last extreme beware, 

** Beware. Lorenzo, a slow-sudden death. 

k ' ; How dreadful that deliberate surprise! 

4i Be wise to-day; 'tis madness to defer.' 5 

Yorxcu 

In the morning of this day, the Rev. Mr. A. preach- 
ed for me in the Hospital ; and after divine service I 
visited several rooms, where were patients on the bor- 
ders of the grave. In the afternoon I preached in the 
Almshouse. There a woman of middle age lay before 
■we, who bad been moral in deportment, industrious in 
the office of an upper servant: but who, in a decline of 
eighteen months, had expended, on many physicians, 
all which her industry had accumulated, for the proba- 
ble wants of decrepitude. About five weeks since she 



SANCTIFIED AFFLICTION, 19 

was brought into this place, to rest for a short space on 
the arm of public charity, and then sink into the com- 
mon grave. I have been acquainted with her ever since 
her residence in this Asylum for poverty and wretched- 
ness. Twice I have preached in her hearing, and often 
prayed with her, At each time she had perfect posses- 
sion of her reason, and appeared to understand my dis- 
course. A few days since, after I had prayed with her, 
she uttered a sentence which deserves to be remem- 
bered. 

" I desire to bless and praise my God for all his 
chastisements; and especially, I bless him, painful as 
my sickness is, and mortifying as it was to come to the 
poor-house, that he has brought me to this place, since 
within these walls, as within the walls of a prison, I 
have been shut up to the Gospel, and have for the first 
time in my life, heard the good news with joy." She 
uttered these words with painful respiration, in a whis- 
per, and was necessitated to make a long pause after 
each member of the sentence. It was astonishing that 
she could, in her weak state, utter so long a sentence 
with such accuracy and pith. What could she have 
said, to express more strongly her high estimation of 
the Gospel ? "Had I not been sent here, against my 
will," she added, " I might never have known Jesus 
Christ." To-day she was far gone, but still retained * 
her mental powers, When we sung these words, 

H I yield my powers to thy command, 
M To thee I consecrate my days ; 
" Perpetual blessings from thy hand, 
" Demand perpetual songs of praise :" 

she lifted up her hands to heaven, clasped them, let " 
Iheni fall on her bosom, and swooned. After public 



20 PIOUS DIFFIDENCE. 

worship was concluded, she was so much revived, as to 
express a wish to see me. I approached her bed. She 
made great exertions to speak, but I could only hear 

her say, " I feel differently at times. I'm 

afraid that I deceive myself." This fear, I told her, 
was an evidence that she did not trust in herself. " He 
that trusteth in his own heart is a foot* She was less 
likely to be deluded than self-confident persons. When 
I bade her farewell, she stretched out her hand to me, 
and pressing mine, said, "pray pray for me." 

January 9th. When I left the trembling believer, on 
the last sabbath, I bade her a final farewell, informing 
her that I should see her no more until we meet at the 
judgment-seat of Christ. At three o'clock this morning, 
she fell asleep. She had been baptized in her infancy, 
was a regular attendant on Trinity Church, and lived, 
as the world say, "a good, moral life.'' During several 
weeks, she appeared to possess "a broken and contrite 
heart." May it not be reasonably supposed that she 
sleeps in Jesus ? Should one soul be saved in the course 
of a year's service, 1 shall be compensated, and th 
benevolent persons who contribute to my support 
cot lose their reward. 



January 10th. 

" See the dim lamp of life just feebly lift 
*' An agonizing beam, at M to gaze, 
M Then sink again, and quiver into death. 
" The most pathetic herald of our own. r: 

Touxg 

After preaching this evening to the poor in the 
Almshouse, I went by request to prav with two females. 



THE DISTRESSED WIDOWS. 21 

who have attended on my ministry, and are now con- 
fined to their beds. One is an aged widow, who is 
pious, and who, I believe, will recover, to limp along 
through life, on two crotches, to everlasting glory. She 
will recover, to suffer more pain, and hawk pin- 
cushions to procure some of the conveniences of life, 
which cannot be distributed in public Almshouses. O! 
it is astonishing that the heirs of heaven should be 
found in such circumstances; that the friends of Jesus, 
who are to share the felicity of heaven with him, should 
be made meet for glory, through extreme humiliation ! 

The other person is a younger widow, whose hands 
and feet, having been frozen, are now in the state of 
progressive putrefaction. She sent me a message, re- 
questing me to visit her ; but it was apparently in vain. 
Her agony was unutterable. Her eyes were swollen, 
and horribly wild, as if ready to burst from their socket?. 
I asked if I should pray with her, and she shrieked out, 
" O yes! yes! yes!' but while I spake, her agony and 
groans must have excluded both hearing and reflection. 
Such an hour of human misery as this, I never before 
witnessed. But if such are the torments of this life, 
what must be the excruciating agonies of the accursed 
in the life everlasting] 

Friday, January 11th. At the moment of my enter- 
ing the Hospital, this morning, D**^b died. Intemp- 
erance in drinking was the cause of his premature death. 
About three weeks since he lost his appetite, and con- 
tinued to drink for several days, until he could retain 
nothing on his stomach. While he was a servant in the 
Institution, the superintendent often warned and entreat- 
ed him. He denied that excess was the cause of his 



22 THE EFFECTS OF INTEMPERANCE. 

sickness; but when be found that he must die, he 
became greatly alarmed, and confessed the sin of slow 
and certain suicide. Since his last sickness, I have once 
preached in the ward where he lay, and sung the 107th 
psalm, third part, of Dvught's edition. The second 
verse was a probe which reached to his heart ; but it 
was necessary. 

" The drunkard feels his vitals waste, 

" Yet drowns his health to please his taste; 

" 'Till all his active powers are lost, 

** And fainting life draws near the dust." 

I could not serve the dead, and therefore I directed 
my attention to the living. Mrs. B. B. desired to see 
me. She is a woman of too fair a face and form for any 
one to possess in this licentious city, who is not, by a 
refined education, or by the fear of God, guarded against 
temptation. Such has been her conduct, that her hus- 
band has some time since refused to protect her. When 
I approached the unhappy woman, she began to weep 
aloud, and appeared to see in me the messenger of death, 
instead of a minister of peace. She has probably seen 
the ministers of Jesus at the bed of death, and in few 
other places. " O sir, it is too late for me now I I have 
rejected religion, and it's too late now ! ,! Such were her 
exclamations. They induced me to state the character 
and faith of Mary Magdalen, and the penitent t. 
" The hour of sickness is indeed a miserable time to 
transact the business of eternity ; but while life remains, 
it is never too late to consider, believe, repent, and 
escape to the Ark of a sinner's safety. " She promised 
to pray. Should she really pray for mercy, she will, be 
saved. 



HUMAN MONSTERS. 23 

The Asylum for maniacs, in this city, is an appendage 
to the New-York Hospital. Both Institutions are under 
the same honourable Governors, and the same Superin- 
tendent. Consider them both as one establishment, and 
one more benevolent, or better regulated, for the relief 
of the sick and insane, cannot be found in America. 
The Asylum was opened for the reception of patients 
on July 15th, 1808. Yesterday it became the asy- 
lum of Miss L****, who may never leave it, until she 
takes her silent departure to the grave. The circum- 
stances which produced her insanity are interesting. 
She was born in England, and last week arrived in 
New-York. Her mother, with four children, of whom 
this young lady, of about eighteen years of age, is the 
eldest, came to this country in pursuit of her husband. 
On the passage, Miss L**** was much reduced by the 
sickness incident to a long voyage. In addition to this, 
there were in the ship's company two Comedians, who 
played a very censurable farce ; which may terminate 
more tragically than they wonld wish. What were their 
motives I know not; but the part they acted shall be 
recorded to their infamy. Shortly before their arrival 
in this country, these " teachers of morality" by mim- 
icry, ornamented themselves with the glory of their art, 
masks and touchwood ; and with the disguise, or iu the 
real character of villains, entered the female apartment 
in the darkness of midnight. Miss L**** was aroused 
from her feverish slumbers, and frightened into par- 
oxysms, of frequent return, and long continuance. She 
had not recovered from these fits, when she landed in 
America. Then they, who sought a husband and a 
father, had to learn, that a few days since he embarked 
for England. Such was the anxiety of the eldest 



24 THE FEMALE MANIAC. 

daughter, for herself, for her mother, and her sisters, 
that while the mother was gone to the theatre with the 
newly imported actors, and the daughter was left in a 
strange land, her fits returned, and a delirium superven- 
ed. She is now so frantic, as to be confined to the 
maniac's chair. Consolation cannot be offered ; but 
the hearts that feel can pray that the God of mercy 
would pity the lost female maniac. 

As for these actors, it is their trade to beguile the 
people of their senses, or frighten them to madness. I 
would ask the wise, if these mischievous lunatics ought 
to go at large ] Could one of these comedians take Miss 
L****' s place, and deliver her from the strait waistcoat, 
it would be a mild retribution. In the Asylum are 
many persons not more insane than those who, during 
the present season, support a drunken buffoon, to the 

tune of FOURTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS PER 

ANNUM. Any sober countryman will pronounce this 
as incredible, as that a Frenchman in yonder walls 
should believe every dirty scroll of paper which he finds, 
either a bank-note, or obligation in his favour. Both 
cases of delirium, however, actually exist. 

The afternoon of this day I devoted, in part, to the 
instruction of two persons in Bridewell, who are under 
sentence of death, for the crime of murder. One is a 
German, of seventy-seven years, and the other a man of 
colour. The first had his Testament in his hands, ap- 
peared very devout, and while I prayed, wrung his 
hands, smote them together, and gave repeatedly the 
loud Amen; but denied the crime of which he stood 
legally convicted. The man of colour was very ig- 
norant, and a short time since did not know, that the 
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, are one God. He sat 



THE MURDERERS. 25 

pensive on the floor, with his back against the wall, and 
his feet chained, directly opposite to his companion. 
He confessed that he was worthy of death, because he 
did stab a man, while he did not positively design to kill 
him. In this respect he acted as those do, who re- 
ject offered mercy, continue in sin, abuse the day of 
grace, and rivet their chains by unbelief, while they do 
not positively design to murder their own souls. They 
destroy themselves, because they are willing to continue 
impenitent and risk the consequences. The hkck man, 
however, appears much more like a penitent, than his 
wretched fellow-prisoner. Would to God that all sin- 
ners could believe that they are really condemned 
already! Did they kuow this, they would know also, 
that their future salvation depends upon the acceptance 
of pardon through the blood of Jesus Christ. Impen- 
itent sinners are not only under condemnation, but im- 
prisoned, or shut up to the necessity of being delivered 
by ONE mighty to save. They are shut up to the hope 
of the Gospel, and excluded from every ether hope. 

January 13fA. 

;< Want, and incurable disease, (fell pair,) 

" On hopeless multitudes remorseless seize 

" At crace ; and make a refuge of the grave. 

" How groaning hospitals eject their dead ! 

" What numbers groan for sad admission there ! 

" What numbers, once in fortune's lap high-fed, 

m Solicit the cold hand of charity !" 

Young. 

About one hundred persons were present while I 
preached in the Hospital this morning, and the door of 
the ward opposite to that in which I stood, was open, 

c 



26 THE BLIND CLERK. 

so that about fifteen wretched females could hear, who 
were on beds of disease, planted with thorns. After 
service, one of them requested me to call and pray with 
her, which gave me the opportunity of addressing many 
of this almost hopeless class of human beings. The 
woman who was the principal object of my visit, is the 
descendant of a respectable family, but has for many 
years been discarded by all her relatives. After a life 
of dissipation, she is about to close her mortal career in 
the common sewer of the vilest. Verily, verily, " the 
way of transgressors is hard." While speaking the 
words of life, I stood beside the miserable B. B. who 
seemed eagerly gasping after that truth which is life 
from the dead. Many other patients were unusually 
attentive ; and when I passed from ward to ward, I 
found many reading the Holy Scriptures. This is a 
favourable omen. 

In the afternoon I preached in the ward of blind per- 
sons in the Almshouse. About thirty persons who are 
bereft of sight attend on my ministry. Among them is 
a person called Blind George, who regularly officiate* 
as my clerk. He has never had vision since he had the 
small pox, and then he was only a few years of age. 
He has lived about thirty years ; has a retentive memory, 
and a very fine voice for church music. What he hears 
suns:, he can sios a^ain; and what he hears read, he 
will very soon repeat. Commonly I pronounce two lines 
of a hymn, but sometimes three, and ever* four, and he 
will sing them with little mistake. From some pious 
Methodists, who have occasionally frequented this In- 
stitution, when neglected by all others, he has learned 
many sacred songs. He is remarkable for adapting his 
notes to the words. Never does he set a plaintive senti- 



THE DYING PROSTITUTE. 27 

ment to a sprightly air ; and never, as do many of his 
brother choiristers, does he name the tune t( Mortality" 
for a song of exultation in redeeming grace. It is, 
indeed, a matter of gratitude, that the blind can be 
directed in their solemn songs by such a leader ; and 
many are the hours which could not be employed in 
sight, that are now devoted to the sounds of celestial 
praise. 

Since I was at the Almshouse last, two persons have 
resigned their spirits to God the Judge. 



January 14/7*. 

Early this morning, the woman of ill fame who 
yesterday requested me to pray with her, resigned her 
mortal life. She was rational to the last moment, and 
often said, after I left her, that she knew she was an ex- 
ceedingly vile sinner, but could not help entertaining 
some feeble hope that God would pardon her sins 
through Jesus Christ. Her present state is known to 
God alone; but possibly she may have entered the 
kingdom of heaven, while such as trust in themselves 
that they are righteous, shall be forever excluded. At 
the same time, it is lamentable, that in the same room 
where she died, are many sinners of the same class, 
sensible only of their bodily agonies, without the fear of 
God ; without hope in his mercy. One of them, how- 
ever, whose sufferings are very acute, acknowledges, 

" His strokes are fewer than her crimes, 
u And lighter than her guilt." 



28 THE SELF-RIGHTEOUS SINNER, 

January 14th. 

A member of the '- society for the relief of poor 

widows with small children/' Mrs. L— — C , took 

me this morning to visit a sick person, supported by this 
benevolent Institution. It is a pleasure to the good, to 
know that the ladies who have espoused the cause of the 
widow and fatherless babe*, regard with tenderness the 
spiritual, as well as the temporal situation of their re- 
spective charges. 

This poor widow is not past the age of thirty-five 
years ; but she is trembling on the verge of the grave. 
She said to me, u not long since, I had a very pretty 

visit from the Rev. Mr. , who told me he would 

administer the sacrament to me at any time I should de- 
sire." This prepared the way to ascertain the reason of 
the hope which she indulged. She did not fear hell, she 
said, because there was no such place as hell ; but she 
believed that all would in future have some punishment, 
and some reward, according to their deserts. She added, 
that she had always done as well as she could, and was 
therefore persuaded that God would not punish her 
much. 

Such was the faith of a woman, who was invited 
to celebrate the offering of the great Sacrifice fori 
our sins! Had she knowledge to discern the Lord's 
body? 

While I was with her. 1 spent my time in attempting 
to convince her, that if God should punish any person 
according to his deserts, he would be completely miser- 
able ; that one sin not pardoned, would entail the curse 
of the law upon all succeeding ages ; that all the impen- 
itent and unbelieving shall be turned into hell ; that die 



THE ATTENTIVE AUDITORY. 29 

had not done as well as she could, in the sense in which 
she pretended that she had; that as a sinner she had 
done no good; that she was likely soon to die, (which 
she almost resented !) and that she must be everlastingly 
miserable, if God did not impute the perfect righteous- 
ness of Christ to her, through faith in his name. These 
were hard doctrines, but if they are not blessed of Gcd 
to her spiritual life, she must remain proud of her own 
performances, dead in trespasses and sins. The doc- 
trine of a sinner's being declared legally just, while in 
himself unjust, and accepted as pure on account of 
the obedience and sufferings of Christ, while in himself 
impure, was a new doctrine to her, which she has yet 
to learn. Her attention was so far gained to these sub- 
jects, that she earnestly entreated me to call again. 

This morning I have also prayed with Mrs. B. B. in 
the Hospital. She declines in body ; but from fear, or 
some other principle, she spends the greater part of her 
days and nights in ejaculatory prayer. The unfortunate 
Miss L**** is thought to be better; and some pros- 
pect remains of her being restored to reason. Still I 
say, the comedians played a tragical farce. 

In the evening, a room in the Almshouse was again 
my church. All were attentive. Many on each side of 
me were on beds of sickness, and several were near the 
close of life. Who would not have been affected at 
such a sight] Many have frequented this place of suf- 
fering with me, and hare been so much overcome by 
their emotions, as to be unable to speak. Once I could 
weep ; but of late I have been so conversant with dis- 
ease and death, that my feelings are somewhat blunted. 
Instead of obtaining relief by the free perspiration of 
grief, my heart swells and burns with an unremitting 

c 3 



30 AN AFFECTING SCENE. 

fever. After public worship was concluded, a warm 
debate arose about the nomination of the ward where I 
should next preach. Seven or eight aged women were 
entreating for their turn next, and naming the number 
of their sick for arguments. In most of the rooms are 
several who cannot move ; and from these I receive 
messages, entreaties, and gentle remonstrances. What 
can I do but serve them all in rotation? When I was 
leaving the room, many poor creatures half raised them- 
selves from bed, to make their obeisance to a fellow 
worm, and express their fears, that since so many beset 
me, they should not soon obtain another sermon. " Be 
patient, be patient," was the reply; but it really re- 
quires great patience in sickness, to be destitute of the 
consolation of a preached Gospel. Many supplicate 
the divine blessing on me, in such a manner as fully to 
induce the belief, that they love the messenger for the 
sake of the message. 

It did indeed move my soul, in descending from the 
fourth floor of the house, to see my blind hearers feel- 
ing their way down the stairs. One of them, a girl of 
seventeen, born blind, was pressed away from the balus- 
trade by the crowd, and was necessitated to move her 
hand around the wall of the whole entry, to gain the 
next descent. Some of the blind had palsied, halting 
leaders, and some without any guide but a staff, passed 
down one wing of the building, over the yard, and up 
into the western apartments. Could any one expect 
these blind persons to find their way to the churches in 
the city ] Or must they perish for want of spiritual 
vision? God forbid, 



SYMPATHY AND BENEVOLENCE. 31 

January 19fA. 

" The pitying robber, conscious that, pursued, 

" He had no time to waste, yet stood and view'd; 

" To the next cot the trembling infant bore, 

" And gave a part of what he stole before; 

" Nor known to him the wretches were, nor dear; 

" He felt as man, and dropped a human tear." 

Langhorve. 

The distinction frequently made between the poiver 
of sympathy and the conviction of duty, is important. 
Even the voluptuary will weep in the theatre, when a 
lovely person is represented to be ruined by the seduc- 
tions of taste, the blandishments of a fascinating youth, 
and the promises of an ardent, but faithless lover. Re- 
present misery to the man who makes gold his idol, and 
you may not unfrequently excite a violent commotion 
in his soul, between the passions of avarice and sympa- 
thy. These same men, however, will produce and con- 
tinue the misery, at the representation of which they 
felt commiseration for the unhappy. 

The man of feeling, without religion, when the ether 
of his imagination pours liquid fire through his veins, 
rushes on, heedless of consequences; and shame, po- 
verty, disease, and even hell, are phantoms to him. He 
is an unrestrained libertine. But when the flames have 
consumed their present store of combustibles, he feels 
again like something human. When cool, approach him 
with a tale of woe, and he is mild in tone, and tender 
in his actions. He gives with liberality : but such feel- 
ing as the wounded animal excites in a brute companion, 
is the sole excitement to his charity. Benevolence which 
becomes a rational being, and which God will approve, 
is a consistent, habitual regard for the welfare of others, 



32 THE LABOUR OF THE POOR. 

which is manifested by corresponding actions. 5 
path]/ is natural and amiable ; but benevolence, when 
exercised by a fallen man, is supernatural and holy. 
Would to God that the two were united in every human 
heart! Possibly both have been exercised in the relief 
of a certain poor widow, whose husband, a carman, 
died about a year since ; leaving her, after she had de- 
frayed the expenses of his sickness and burial, nothing 
for her support, but ten children. Four of these are 
able to provide for themselves, and one or two can give 
some assistance to the mother, by tending the four 
younger children, while the mother washes or sews for 
the necessaries of life. For eight months I have known 
this woman and her family. She is a professor of re- 
ligion; and more, she is pious. Her children are neat 
and industrious. For a single room she pays twenty- 
five dollars, yearly rent ; and earns a part of this by 
sewing nankeen pantaloons and common shirts, for the 
eighth of a dollar for each garment. This I find to be 
the common price of job-work ; so that the poor widows 
who will support themselves, must be content with one 
shilling, while the purchasers pay many shillings for 
the same work. x\ll who sell ought to have lawful gain, 
but the poor, who perform the work, ought to receive 
at least half of that sum which is charged for making 
apparel. Some of the children attend that benevolent 
Institution, " The New-York Free School," and if the 
Lord shall spare them, I doubt not will make useful 
mechanics. When this widow was in her most destitute 
condition, before she could gather something to begin the 
world anew, with her fatherless children, a young man 
of generous, native feelings, who never saw her, sent 
five dollars for her relief, This same man of tenderness, 



ILL-DIRECTED CHARITY. 33 

however, gave that for which he was indebted, and 
soon after defrauded many of his friends. Alas ! alas ! 
why had not this youth benevolence, as well as sympa- 
thy? Another young man, who is poor indeed, but 
whom providence has hitherto protected, has more than 
once divided with the family, when almost destitute of 
wood and bread, his last dollar. The pride of doing 
good, or sympathy, or something else, may have actuated 
him. God searches his heart ! 

To give to the street beggars of this city, is not well 
directed charity* Those persons who have large fami- 
lies, who make great exertions to live out of the Alms- 
house, when they are almost driven into it by want, 
are the proper objects for pecuniary assistance. 

The wind blew the piercing cold from the north ; 
but the southern sun illuminated the abode of the wi- 
dow. The children had recovered their ruddy coun- 
tenances, and were seated round a frugal fire. They 
had a little wood still remaining, and a loaf of bread 
in reserve. The widow was restored to wonted strength, 
from the debility induced by long watchings with mi- 
sery ; aud contentment was in her countenance. This 
sight gave new vigour to a heart which had been de- 
pressed with the remembrance of wretchedness which 
it could not dispel. It encouraged me to take a mis- 
sionary tour through some of the wards in the Alms- 
house. 

Here I saw one of my aged friends, to whom might 
be applied Milton's description of honourable old age. 

" So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop 
" Into thy mother's lap, or he with ease 
" Gather d, not harshly pluck'd, for Death mature. 
" This is old age : but then thou must outlive 



S4 HONORABLE AGTS. 

" Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change 

" To wither'd, weak, and grey ; thy senses then 

" Obtuse, all sense of pleasure must forego, 

*' To what thou hast: and for the air of youth, 

" Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign 

" A melancholy damp of cold and dry, 

" To weigh thy spirits down." 

At my request, she repeated thirty or forty stanzas of 
different hymns, which she learned in childhood and 
youth. Some of these hymns have been remembered 
by her for a century. She was born in Berwick upon 
the Tweed, lived some time in London, was a hearer 
of Mr. Whitefield there, and came to this city long, 
she does not remember how long, before the revolu- 
tionary war. Her maiden name was Christiana Rit- 
chie, but she is now the widow Webb, having had only 
one husband in a life of one hundred and three years. 
Being disposed to converse familiarly with all, to gain 
their confidence, I one day said, as any man might 
speak to an aged friend, in health, " But why did you 
not marry a second tinie]" She answered, with a smile, 
that she was old when her husband died ; that they 
had always lived in peace; and that she was "afraid to 
try another, lest he should not be so good." There is 
not a more cheerful person of my acquaintance, in the 
world. It is good to see such an aged saint, and hear 
her bless God for the goodness of a century. The 
hymns and scenes of her childhood are fresh in her 
memory; but most intermediate things, saving the 
general remembrance of God's love, have vanished from 
her mind. To the remark, " You appear still to love 
God," she replied, " Aye ! whom have I to love better 
than him ] I would not be without his love, and love 
to him, for a thousand worlds !" She delights in reli- 



THE APPROACHING EXECUTION. 35 

gious conversation, and public worship. When her 
nurse told her that I was to preach in her room to- 
morrow, she said, "Well, 1 am very glad, Sir; and 
may God give you instruction, that y©u may instruct 
us." 

To-day the German convict seemed more tender and 
sensible of his situation than when I saw him last ; but 
still insisted upon his innocence in relation to the mur- 
der. The other convict was also deeply affected at the 
exhibition of a merciful Saviour; but when men expect 
death in less than a week, and their sins arise in horri- 
ble array against them, it is difficult to distinguish j^/ta/ 
fear from the slavish dread of God. The one is a saving 
grace of the Holy Spirit ; and the other, an actual in- 
fliction of a part of the wrath and curse of God due to 
sin. Terrors of a guilty conscience are inflicted penal- 
ties of a violated law. If, then, the penalties of the law 
are partly inflicted here, who dares to say, " there is no 
hell]" 



■s^-*-***^***-* 



January 20ih. 

The room in which I preached in the Hospital this 
morning, was very full, and all were attentive. By the 
assistance of a few young friends, I was enabled to pre- 
sent the patients with some Hymn Books, to be detained 
in the Institution, which were received and used with 
great pleasure. It was a matter of regret, that I could 
not present more of the excellent " Hartford Collec- 
tion." 

Between the hours of 11 and 12 o'clock, my time was 
devoted to the men who are to be executed. At their 
united request, prayer was addressed to the throne of 



36 THE CRIMINALS. 

grace. The German shifted his chains so as to arise 
on his knees ; and the man of colour bowed his head 
in awful depression. Both of them appeared to feel 
that their last sabbath had dawned on them, and ex- 
pressed a desire to remember past privileges, and im- 
prove the present moment, by singing the praises of 
God. Several persons were in company with me, and 
the prisoners, as well as they could, united with us in 
singing: 

u Come, humble sinner, in whose breast, 

" A thousand thoughts revolve; 
" Come, with your guilt and fear opprest, 

" And make this last resolve : 

" I'll go to Jesus, though my sin 

" Hath like a mountain rose; 
" I know his courts, I'll enter in, 

" Whatever may oppose." 

During public worship in the Almshouse this after- 
noon, the woman of 103 years sat before me, and said 
she could perfectly understand me. I read a hymn to 
which she had been accustomed in youth, and which I 
knew she could repeat. It gave her so much pleasure, 
that she involuntarily lifted np her hands, and said in 
the hearing of all, " O that's a fine hymn !" But how 
different are the dispensations of providence ! Catha- 
rine Welsh, a woman of 96 years, sat beside me also, 
but has become so much of a child as to understand 
nothing. Indeed, she differs from an infant only in her 
form, and the love of taking snuff. This habit has 
survived the exercise of all her mental faculties. 

George, my blind clerk, was delighted with the pre- 
sent of a Hymn Book. " Of what use," a stranger 
might ask, " will it be to him V While he owns it, he 



THE USE OF HYMN BOOKS. 37 

will have the satisfaction which all desire, of calling 
something his property. Besides, he can now persuade 
others to amuse some of his solitary hours, by reading 
to him ; who, were they in possession, would read only 
to themselves. Two books were presented for the use 
of two other rooms ; and strong solicitations came thick 
upon me for the other wards. I have not the power to 
gratify them ; but must resort to those who have, at 
least, a little silver and gold. It is more painful to 
ask, than to bestow, I have found by experience ; and 
witness, angels, if ever I beg a cent in any other name 
than that of the Lord Jesus Christ. Had he not been 
poor, one might be ashamed of poverty ; but for him a 
Christian can beg, without deeming it a degradation. 

When leaving the room, I said to Mary L* * * *, a 
blind woman, " Well, Mary, I hope it was some conso- 
lation for you to hear ; for faith cometh by hearing" 
She replied in an instant, " It is better to believe than 
to see ; but I hope to see in the next world ; and among 
others, since I have been comforted by your words, I 
greatly desire to see the preacher there" Verily, it 
was the divine design that the Gospel should be 
preached to the poor, that their profiting might appear 
to all, for the manifestation of his benevolence. 

In addition to the other employments of this day, I 
have enjoyed the communion of saints, and inflicted 
pain on my own mind, by chastising an infidel. His 
infidelity is to be hated ; but it is painful to wound the 
personal feelings of any being. 

The communion was doubly dear, from the circum- 
stance that Christians of different sections of the Pres- 
byterian Church, who never united before in the 
breaking of bread, were seated at the same table, to 

D 



28 christian :ip, 

commemorate the death of their common Saviour. T ' 
have happily discovered, that brethren who love 

same Lord, agree in the same faith, se: ' 

master, and love one another, may testify | rid, 

that they commuue with one another, in tie. 

waifare waged by names. 

The church in Cedar-street, and the third 
Reformed church, with m ice- 

tions of the Christian community, deserve the tbs 
of the whole church, for the di-covery, that the q 
Scotch is not the test of rip; and 

the members of the same my- ire born 

of the Spirit, may descend, c 

Highland, Lowland, English, Irk .<:!:, French, 

German, or Am- ineestiy. Long live th. 

ly intercourse between ei 
the same faith! Multitude- 
whom the phi 
should eneoura^: 

the : ; there i - 

union and co-op 

advocates a . for 

there is no Gospt - 

of that church ; but confound their i, 
that the whole fraternity find as many 

dirr their sy : 

nbstn 

I 
served severe rebuke. L 
subject for the lash of so Not h 

3iad the courage to attack the Ci .ith of a very 

ami j, and ridiculed her Hcpe, because, I 

tfa, he had been a traveller, had vis 



SAMSON OCCUM. 39 

was qualified to attest that the history of Jesus Christ is 
a fiction. It was known to the writer, that this boaster 
had been retailing that knowledge which is contained in 
the Primer of infidelity, " The Age of Reason ;" and if 
it is honourable for a Deist to commence hostilities, it 
is not dishonourable for a Christian, when opportunity 
permits, to cut and thrust with the sword of the Spirit* 

" Are there, (still more amazing!) who resist 

** The rising thought? who smother, in its birth, 

" The glorious truth ? who struggle to be brutes ? 

" Who through this bosom-barrier burst their way, 

" And, with reverst ambition, strive to sink? 

46 Who labour downwards through the opposing powers 

" Of instinct, reason, and the world against them, 

" To dismal hopes, and shelter in the shock 

" Of endless night." 

Samson Occum, the Indian preacher, after a long 
contest with an Universalist, terminated the controversy, 
by saying, "Well, well, remember, if you are correct, 
I am safe : if you are not correct, I am safe : I have 
two strings to my bow ; you have but one." This was 
related and applied to the argumentation between the 
friends and the enemies of divine revelation. * He is a 
friend/' said I, " neither to himself, nor to others, who 
would deprive any Christian of support under afflic- 
tions, and consolation in death, by shaking his faith in 
the system of Christianity. The religion of Jesus can 
injure no one; and were it a delusion, I would gladly 
cherish it in preference to despair : I would support it, 
merely for the advantages it affords in the hour of dis- 
solution, until a better source of consolation should be 
substituted in its place." My friend, the amiable lady, 
jrelated the anecdote of Hume's mother, who desired her 



40 THE INFIDEL REBUKED. 

son to restore to her, on the bed of sickness, the con- 
solations of which he had deprived her, by making her 
a sceptic. After this severe, but gentle reproof was 
given, our conversation was terminated. This bold and 
ferocious fellow, who could worry a lamb, would not 
even defend himself against an equal. He heard the 
whole, discovered considerable agitation, attempted to 
divert the course of conversation, but opened not his 
mouth in favour of his own opinions. Impudence and 
cowardice often co-exist in the same breast. 

Of the truth of this remark, I have additional evi- 
dence. Not long since, I called on a friend, who, from 
great .urbanity, and regard to the acquaintances of his 
childhood, entertained two persons at his table who 
were avowed Deists. They had been educated in reli- 
gious families; had removed to one of the Southern 
States, and were now men of consequence, because they 
possessed five or six hundred slaves. Their dignity is 
commensurate with their plantations, and their honours 
have been multiplied at the birth of every negro or 
mulatto child. Since they left " the land of steady ha- 
bits/' the sabbath has been the day of their amuse- 
ments ; and deeds, at which they shuddered in youth, 
have become familiar by practice. To quiet their con- 
sciences, they have concluded, very philosophically, to 
believe nothing, Of course, no truth which they be- 
lieve can condemn their unhallowed indulgences. 

When I entered the room, the gentlemen were near 
the end of the dessert. It was the time for every mau 
to expose his whole heart. After denying the divine 
institution of the sabbath, and the inspiration of the 
Scriptures, one of these mighty men of the plantation 



THE CHALLENGE. 41 

turned to me, and said, " Christianity has made more 
damned rascals than all other religions under heaven/ 
With indignation, I arose to leave the room, and said, 
"It is false! it is false, w ir!" lie arose oo, in terrible 
wrath, exclaiming, " I demand explanation, Sir, or sa- 
tisfaction ! We do not suffer such language in the coun- 
try where I live. ' 

"An explanation I am ready to give. What you 
have said is utterly false; is a base aspersion on Christi- 
anity." 

Upon this, he swore, vr ith the oath of a bully, that 
I was a fellow of low breeding. " You must be," I re- 
joined, seating myself with a smile of contempt for his 
baseness, "a gentleman of refined education and man- 
ners, to tell ycur host, who is a ruler in the church, 
and his two friends, who are ministers of the Gos- 
pel, that the system which they espouse, and on which 
they build their hope of everlasting life, is a system of 
knavery which makes men rascals." The Rev. Mr. 

H , who had remained silent, upon this disclosure 

took his departure ; but having entered the lists, I felt 
constrained to add, " I shall afnrm that your assertion 
is false, until you shew some doctrine, precept, or pro- 
mise of the Gospel, which countenances deception and 
licentiousness." 

In this critical juncture, as became the wight, he 
gave me to understand, that in spite of a black coat, I 
must meet him ; and his brother infidel volunteered his 
services as an honourable friend, — I suppose, to carry 
the powder-horn and bullet-bag. My friend, the Elder, 
was unfortunately so deaf, that he did not distinctly 
laiderstand the conversation ; and of course, the Rev. 
D 3 



42 THE RETBACTIOK. 

Mr. H— being absent, no one offered his services as 
rny armour-bearer in the dreadful conflict. My answer 
was: 

u I am ready to meet you, Sir, and shall meet you 
now, with no other weapons than those of truth and 
conscience. I did not say that you was a liar, but that 
your assertion was false. Every lie is a falsehood, but 
every falsehood is not a lie. What is not true is false, 
and an untruth may be spoken from ignorance or pre- 
judice, as well as a disposition to deceive. I have not 
said that you spoke contrary to your belief; for I know 
not your thoughts ; but you have uttered what is un- 
true: for Christianity has no tendency to make bad 
men/' 

After I met the man in this manner, he asked my 
pardon; said be did not know we were clergymen, and 
excused his conduct by pleading the violence of his 
native passions. Finally he made his retreat by alleg- 
ing, that he intended to say, i( More deceivers have as- 
sumed Christianity for a cloak, than any other religion." 
—To tins I consented, and to this only, u That many 
rascals pretend to be Christian:, who were rascals be 
fore, created by infidelity, and are not improved by the 
religion of Jesus, because they have not felt it." When 
departing from the room, he offered me his hand, and I 
left him, with the expression of my desire that he might 
feel the influences of Christianity, and experience its 
blessings. 

The remark which I made in my own mind, after 
leaving the company, I would propose as a moral to 
jny kindred according to the flesh. 

When a young man discards the pious custo?ns of 



THE INHUMAN HL'SBAND." 43 

his native place, and the faith of his Christian ances- 
tors, he commonly becomes one of the vilest of the vile. 



January 24th . 

There is a woman of colour, now in the Hospital, 
who has been dreadfully mangled by her husband. He 
had often been deranged in mind, by the stimulant 
effect of ardent spirits ; and on the night of her suffer- 
ings, said Jesus commanded him to sacrifice her. He 
stabbed her in several places in the head, and cut her 
hands, which made resistance, until the blade of the 
knife was broken in the bloody conflict. Her throat 
was also gashed in several places ; but in all this strug- 
gle_ for life, she did not cry so loud as to alarm the 
family, which slept directly over head. Groans were 
heard, indeed, in the morning, and the neighbours 
coming in, found the poor creature with her hands on 
the wounds, and the floor wet with blood. Her reason 
for not making more complaint was, a conviction that 
her husbaud knew not what he did ; and the fear that 
he would be executed, while an impenitent sinner. She 
now discovers great concern for the soul of her hus- 
band ; and while she knows that the physicians despair 
of her life, is arixious that prayer should he offered for 
his pardon, rather than for her own recovery. She has 
but little knowledge; she suffers extremely, and yet her 
confidence in the wisdom of God might well be the ob- 
ject of imitation; and her peace, the desire of the learn- 
ed and affluent. 

With the criminals I found many persons, who ap- 
pear to .have more disposition than ability to teach; 



44 UNQUALIFIED TEACHERS. 

for many good men are poorly qualified to instruct 
the ignorant. With one consent, exer made by 

these persons to prevent the poor convicts from doubt- 
ing of their good estate. They really appeared to think, 
that to die in the persuasion of acceptance, from what- 
ever source that persuasion \\: tually to 
die in safety, to sleep in Jesus. Without aaj direct at- 
tack upon those who claimed the honour of haying con- 
verted Johnson and Sinclair, it was my endeavour se- 
riously and ration: lly to convince them, from the word 
of God, of their own sin, of the righteousness which 
is in Christ Jesus, and of the ju i to 
com e, that by a d i v i r ig they m c 5 s con* 
trite hearts. 

Besides the word of exhortation in the Alms 
this morning, it was an unfeigof are to cive sei 

more hymn-books tor the use of the dc^ ids. 



January 25 th* 
THE EXECUTION. 

4< "Sot>ad a death argue? a ■::. 

<i Forbear to we are sinners all. 

<l Close up hi wd draw the is round, 

" And let us all to medkati 

Shakespeare, 

The cell of the murderers was this rnorrm 
at an early hour for all ministers of the Go- 
pleased, to enter and give k n. To gratify a 

wish, which the criminals had previously expressed, I 
visited them, among many teachers c -A deno- 



THE EXECUTION. 45 

minations. Two German ministers devoted themselves 
to their unhappy countryman, who confessed, perhaps, 
all his sins, but that for which he was to be executed ; 
and with many tears followed them in their forms of 
prayer. Several persons who had, I would hope, pious 
intentions, assured Johnson that he was converted, that 
all his sins were unquestionably pardoned, and that 
now he had nothing to do but sing hymns of assurance 
and triumph. He was exhorted again and again to say 
that he was confident, and that he had no fear of death. 
To this poor prisoner of hope, were devoted all my 
mentions, because he confided in me, solicited my last 
advice ; and because I thought it more important that 
he should be prepared for death, than that he should 
think or say, " I have already attained ." 

While his friends were insisting upon the song of 
Hallelujah, he frequently turned to me, and asked, 
u How shall I pray ] What shall be my last prayer V* 
Having explained the nature of sin, and of Christ's 
satisfaction for transgression, the hope was expressed 
that he would die with the prayer of the publican in his 
heart. When the singing men gave a short intermission^ 
I proposed the 51st Psalm ; 

" Shew pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive, 
" Let a repenting rebel live;" 

and the words seemed perfectly consonant to his feel- 
ings, k dying penitent will always prefer confession 
and petition, to confident declarations of his own sin- 
cerity. 

At the appointed hour, spectators withdrew from the 
cell ; the chains were taken off; the prisoners were 
arrayed in white garments and caps, trimmed with 



46 THE EXECUTION. 

black; had their arms pinioned, and received the fatal 
rope about their necks. The father and friends of John- 
son then approached him, and gave the last embrace. 
The family of the keeper also approached, with much 
tenderness, and bade them farewell. When the pri- 
soners had descended to the yard, I designed to have 
left Johnson among his friends, who were particularly 
desirous of walking with him, while the German bre- 
thren led Sinclair ; but when the cart which contained 
the scaffold and the coffins appeared, the black man 
turned and inquired for me with anxiety. His in treaty 
that I would not leave him, induced me to see the con- 
summation of this dreadful scene. On the way to the 
gallows, he took my left arm, and the right arm of one 
of his coloured brethren. Behind us were many, who 
incessantly sung as we marched, with military escort, but. 
he seemed to regard songs as now inappropriate to his 
circumstances. Again and again he entreated me to 
teach him how to pray; and when I dictated suitable 
expressions, he would repeat them with great fervor. 
He had no heart for any thing but the revelation of 
the grace of our Lord Jesus, and the petition, "God 
be merciful to me, a sinner/' This he repeated at 
almost every step. Under the gallows he was un- 
willing that I should leave him; and when he was 
ascending to be made fast, he said to me, " What shall 
I say? O tell me my last prayer again!" Again I 
said, " God be merciful to me, a sinner." When every 
thing was ready, each of the criminals prayed in his 
own vernacular tongue. The German protested his 
innocence to the last. Johnson confessed ; and shaking 
hands, while they looked up to heaven, they recipro- 
cally greeted each other, saving, " God bless you: fare- 



FALSE CONFIDENCE, 47 

well." In an instant after this, Johnson perceiving the 
cartman about to drive, -exclaimed, "Stop! stop! one 
minute longer; let me pray one breath more; God be 
merciful to me, a sinner V when they were suspended 
together, and together were ushered into the presence 
of Jehovah. When Johnson uttered his last cry, al- 
most every hearer involuntarily prayed for him. Would 
to God that we all could feel that the time of prayer is 
precious! Would to God, that all who exclaimed^ 
" God forgive him," would ask, as he did, " What shall 
we do to be saved V 

If either of these unhappy men is now assured of his 
salvation, the assurance has come as soon as, under 
their circumstances, it could be expected : and if now 
he sings " Hallelujah to the Lamb ; doubts have fled, fear 
is extinguished, faith is superseded, hope is absorbed 
in fruition/' it is in the best time. To know the only true 
God and Jesus Christ, is eternal life ; but to be con- 
fident that we savingly know them, is not absolutely 
essential. Yea, such confidence, if not founded on tho- 
rough scrutiny of religious experience, if not derived 
from a considerable course of consistent piety, is pre- 
sumption, if not DAMNING DELUSION. 



January 26th. 

Cl Let us consider one another, to provoke unto love, and to 
good works." 

Paul, 

Last evening, a member of the Widow's Society 
made me promise, without delay, to visit the poor wo- 
man whom I saw on the 17th inst. It was my intention 
to have visited her before this time , but many similar 



48 THE DISTRESSED WIDOW. 

couceros might have created a longer delay, had I 
been, in Paul's sense, provoked to the work. She had 
decayed rapidly, and was assured of a speedy dissolu- 
tion. Her imaginary goodness too had fled ; and what 
she long cherished, was now, in her opinion, pride, 
pollution, misery, and death. Many pious instruction 
had she received from her female benefactors, and she 
appeared now to feel that she was a sinner, in perishing 
need of a Saviour. This was the time to preach good 
news, and I attempted with more apparent success than 
formerly, to show her how a sinner might be just with 
God ; but whether she believes to salvation, must be 
left mih the Searcher of hearts. 



January '21th. 

Last week five patients died in the Hospital, and 
while speaking there, this morning, in the presence of 
eight or nine, who were too near the grave to arise, 
one died of an inflammation by a broken leg. When 
first the bone was fractured, in the line of bis daily 
business, his wife could not endure the thoughts ef 
partiug with him; but her feeble attendance on him, 
surrounded by poverty and sickness, was insufficient, 
and he became delirious. He has left, I am informed, 
a worthy wife, with five small children; the youngest 
of which is not more than three weeks of age. Her 
name and number I have taken as a present to some 
one of the Widow's Society. 

Afternoon. After speaking in one room, I visited 
another in the Almshouse, which is full of sick persons. 
Their misery makes me sick at heart ; especially when 
I consider, that in nine cases out of ten, premature 



BLIND SALLY. 43 

sickness comes in consequence of making a god of ani- 
mal appetite. One man, however, of middle age, whose 
countenance indicates past intemperance, was greatly 
moved by the word of God. His attention has been 
increasing for some weeks. O may God bless my poor 
labours to the salvation of his trembling soul ! 

Evening. The widow whom I visited yesterday, is 
gone. Her departure I did not imagine to be so very 
near. Thanks to Mrs. J. E— C — , who urged my last 
attentions to the dying fellow-sinner! To reciprocate 
her kindness, 1 presented the «^rd of the lately be- 
reaved mother of five babes, which she accepted with 
an assurance of affording the most immediate relief 
within her power. 



January 31th. 

When I first saw blind Sally, I went at the request 
of an elder of the Dutch church, to converse with her 
upon the concerns of her soul. She was greatly trou- 
bled by reason of spiritual darkness ; and was the first 
person who besought me to preach in the Almshouse. 
Many weeks she sat under tire preaching of the word, 
before she found consolation from faith. At length the 
child, long before brought to the birth, was brought 
forth into God's marvellous light. Not long since she 
was admitted to the fall communion of the Reformed 
Dutch church, When under examination before the 
consistory, she was asked why she loved Christ ; and 
immediately replied, " We love him because he first 
loved us/' 

Blind George was very attentive to the word to nigh?. 
Mis emotions clearly indicate when he is pleased or dis- 

E 



50 SPIRITUAL BLINDNESS, 

pleased with a discourse ; for all sermons are not alike 
to him, nor is the last sermon always the best. He has 
already committed several hymns to memory since I 
gave him a book, and he requested that I would select 
some new ones for him to learn. This was a pleasing 
request; and after I had folded down a few leaves to 
guide his feeling, half a dozen other hymn books were 
handed me for the same purpose. An old woman ob- 
served to me, when she presented hers, "All we blind 
persons take great pleasure in learning, as well as 
George." New applications were made by old and 
young, for similar books, with which, on account of 
my inability to gratify their wishes, I was almost as 
much troubled as pleased. 

It was gratifying to see another aged blind woman 
very attentive, who formerly, when a gentleman, who 
accompanied me, Mr. B. said in her hearing, " Perhaps 
many of these persons are more blind in spirit, than 
in their bodily organs," discovered considerable resent- 
ment, and leaving the room, exclaimed, "Perhaps we 
are not so blind, neither !" Soon a-ftejr this, I took oc- 
casion to deliver a public discourse, in her hearing, 
from the question of the spiritually blind Jews, " Are 
we blind also V' Since that time I have often seen the 
tears trickle down from her aged eyelids, (which, hav- 
ing no eyeballs to cover, could certainly not be devoted 
to a better use) at the sound of that Gospel, which 
offers sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, speech to 
the dumb, soundness to the lame, and life to the dead. 

When singing a hymn, which commences with these. 
lines, 

;; God moves in a mysterious way 
" His wonders to perform ;" 



THE HYMN, 51 

I was surrounded by eight or ten boys, of about nine 
years of age, who tuned their little musical organs to 
the words with all their might. The sight of their 
ragged garments and brilliant eyes, accompanied by 
the remembrance, that some of them are orphans, 
some fatherless, some motherless, and others not ac- 
knowledged by any earthly 'parent, was calculated to 
excite melancholy feelings. Some of them, however, I 
said to myself, since they are instructed at the benevo- 
lent Free School, may m some future day rise to useful- 
ness, influence, and even affluence; for many have 
arisen from indigence to honour, and have become the 
ornaments of society. In such a frame of mind, it 
was more than vocal music which I heard, when they 



suns 



" Behind a frowning providence 
" He hides a smiling face. 

" His purposes will ripen fast, 

M Unfolding every hour; 
" The bud may have a bitter taste, 
" But sweet will be the flow'r." 



February 2nd. 

My journal is of necessity the record of wretched- 
ness. The unfortunate Miss I**** is more frantic, 
and there is very little reason to expect that she will 
ever be restored to sanity. The poor black woman, 
who was mangled by her husband, still lives, but her 
head seems to be a mass of putrefaction, She exhibits 
an example of patience and forgiveness, which is wor- 
thy of imitation. 

E 2 



52 THE TIGER. 

Another sufferer lies in the Hospital, bereft of rea- 
son, who, not long since, went to see a tiger, which fa 
now exhibited in this city; and while offering the wild 
beast an apple,- was caught by the arm, a little above 
the wrist, by the paw of the ferocious creature. The 
unguarded prey was drawn violently against the case, 
and with the loss of flesh, nerves, muscles, tendons, 
and blood-vessels, from the arm, with difficulty made 
his escape. Of all public show^, those which exhibit 
the works of creation are the most pioper; but it is 
dangerous even to stroke the mane of a tame lion : or, 
in proffering a favour, to extend the hand to a tiger. 

It would be difficult to decide which was most cruel, 
the tiger or the drunken African. 

February 3rd. 

In the ward of the Almshouse in which 1 preached 
this morning, were ten bed-ridden females, who cannot 
continue long in life ; for they are most of them in the 
latter stages of the consumption. A little lad, who on 
Thursday evening entreatea me to give him a book of 
hymns, to-day renewed his application with great ar- 
dour. He was very respectful, but very importunate. 
I doubted his ability to read, but he soon convinced me 
of my mistake. Two books were all I had ; and since 
several little boys were watching the success of their 
companion, I presented one to an aged man, and put 
the other in my pocket, for a widow, to whom I had 
partly promised one ; while I assured the children that 
I would soon procure some smaller books for them. 
The little fellow was so dejected, that he could scarcely 



SUCCESSFUL IMPORTUNITY. 53 

retrain from weeping, Down I came, by the shortest 
passage, from the upper story, to the outer door; and 
whom should I meet there, but this same child of im- 
portunity ! He had descended by another stair-case into 
the cellar, and cane up under the threshold over which 
I was to pass. There he stood, without a hat, in a 
storm of sleet; and pleaded that he was going away to 
the cotton-factory on the succeeding day ; and that he 
should never get a book, if I did not give him one now. 
At rirst I did not know that he was to be bound an ap- 
prentice, and asked, " When will you be here again V 

" I'm going there to live : I'll not be seen here again, 
Sir, very soon, if they use me well at the factory/' 

The book was his ; and mine the pleasure of his pro- 
mise, that if ever I saw him again, 1 should see his 
hymn-book also. The lad is sprightly; and I am per- 
suaded from the delicacy of his complexion, and the 
brilliancy of his eyes, that no vulgar blood runs in his 
veins. Who can say what will be the future history of 
this book ? It will go to the factory with the lad, and 
there, possibly, besides being of service to the owner, 
will be read to other children, or will comfort some one 
infirm child of God, who, being an heir of gto ry. to learn 
patience, and have an opportunity of imitating Christ in 
his humiliation, tends a cotton-machine, for a scanty 
subsistence. 

In the afternoon, my audience at the Hospital was 
unusually full and attentive. Here my hearers are 
frequently changed. Some go in a few weeks, others 
come, and a few remain for the greater part of the year. 
By death and restoration, the inhabitants of one ward 
have been almost entirely changed in three weeks. A 
preacher here resembles a guide-post indeed; for he 
E 3 



54 *THREE UNHAPPY SISTERS. 

stands beside a public road, multitudes pass him ; he 
points them to the path which leads to a better country, 
and they are soon out of sight. Some of the doctrines 
of the cross, however, which are taught in this place, 
may be carried in the minds of the seamen to distant 
lands. Some mariner may remember a discourse about 
the blessed Saviour in a storm ; and some forlorn 
female, thoughtlessly returning to her former abode, 
may find arrows of truth fastened in the mind, of which 
she was insensible, and which may eventually give her 
no peace, until her polluted conscience is cleansed, and 
her wounded heart healed, by divine grace. 

Several abandoned women listened to my discourse 
to-day ; and among them was a beautiful girl of only 
fifteen years of age. It was astonishing to see so fair 
and young a person as M. D. in such a situation. She 
was brought to the Hospital by her father, who has two 
other daughters beside this, who have been patients in 
this Institution. The eldest sister led the way; the 
younger sisters followed. In early childhood they were 
all left motherless ; and the father, as is commonly the 
case with labouring men, had no time to stand sentinel 
over the chastity of three fair daughters. 



February Itk. 

In the course of the last week, several blind people 
have committed a long hymn to memory, and this even- 
ing they sung it : so that my blind hearers contrive to 
perform their part of public worship with great pro- 
priety. 

The little sprightly beggar of a book was gone to the 
factory. Some of the aged men, who have been with- 



THE GOOD WELSH WOMAN*. frS 

out God, appear to be awakened from their stupidity, 
and requested that our next meetiug might be in their 
ward. It is a singular fact, that all my public preach- 
ing hitherto has been in the rooms of the female paupers, 
and that the chief nurses of those rooms are pious. 
They have contributed much to my comfort, by making 
their rooms clean for my reception. Some unusual 
exertion, which was much needed, has uniformly been 
made to purify the apartments where our assemblies 
have been convened. If no other purification should 
result from our coming together, this will be no trivial 
benefit to the poor. 



+^+^+ ***■**•* 



February 1Q/A. 

An aged man presented me the petition of a blind 
boy, who dedred a hymn-book. The boy was bora 
blind, but could sing, as I before had learned, many 
sacred songs. He can commit to memory any common 
chapter in the Bible, b\ beating it read a few times. It 
was decided that he should have the book, which was 
intended for my own use. 

When 1 entered the room, I spake to the aged wo- 
man, whose case I have stated in the 16th page of this 
journal. She expressed great gratitude to God for 
giving her this holy day, and said she hoped He would 
give me something good to give them. During the ser- 
vice, she was much affected ; and after it, bathing my 
hand with her tears, she said, " O what a coot God I 
have ! He give me all things. How could my piessed 
Saviour stoop so low as me, as pick up me, poor sinner ! 
He cover my nakedness, wash me, make me see, maka 
me feel, and take me to be his ! O my piessed Jasus b 



56 THE YOUNG UNFORTUNATE. 

I asked her if she could not read a Welch Testament* 
She could, if she had it, and her eye-sight was not al- 
most gone. " Weil, then, I hope Christ will continue to 
teach you by his Spirit. n 

" O he has, he does, I know he will; I can under- 
stand you when you read the English Bible ; as my 
prother, ^he minister, said, He will never leave me, he is 
my plessed husband, the bridegroom, and my record is> 
on high/' 

" Had you then a brother, who was a preacher?" 
" You, you I mean ; you pe my prother in Christ/' 
When I returned to my lodgings, a gentleman gave 

me a book for W. R , the blind boy; so that the 

writer had the pleasure of giving and receiving. 

The Hospital I found, this afternoon, unusually full. 
Besides about sixty lunatics, it contains at present two 
hundred and forty patients. In addition to these, there 
are many servants and nurses in the house, who compose 
a part of my audience. They can better attend public 
worship here than they could any where else; because 
when some under their care are dangerously ill, they can 
smite in prayer, or hear the sermon, and immediately be 
at the bed-side of their respective charges. 

The deluded child of fifteen years, M. D. was present, 
and paid solemn attention. But she is sick now; and 
many are serious while a fever rages in. their blood, who, 
with returning health, return to their former stupidity. 
This unfortunate I design to trace, if possible, in her 
future course. It cannot be a long one; unless God 
should reclaim her by the power of the Gospel. Should 
she evince a disposition to live a moral life in- future,, 
must she be turned out again upon the world, to en- 
counter strong temptation? The Hospital is designed. 



MISERIES OF SEDUCTION. 57 

for the sick, and must not therefore be occupied by the 
sound. When she is restored to health, she must return 
to a worthless father's house, where she will find the sis- 
ters who seduced her. The eidest took her to a danc- 
ing house, provided a gallant for her, and after much 
solicitation, persuaded her to become a mistress. M — 
thinks she should never have yielded, had it not been for 
the precept and example of this syren sister. The three 
daughters have all been ensnared by their beauty, pride, 
and idleness. No mother taught them to be industrious; 
no, nothing warned them of the horrible pit into which 
they have fallen. Their father thinks it enough to pro- 
vide himself food and drink. By what profession, then, 
could they live ; by what art could they adorn their 
persons? Under such circumstances, where there is no 
fear of God, an effectual repulsion of insidious ap- 
proaches, a persevering struggle against temptation, 
need not be expected. It will never be found. 

At present M. professes to detest her past manner of 
life ; but, alas ! I fear she is too proud, and has been 
too much caressed, to become at present a good servant 
to any body but the devil. She has no trade ; there is 
no Magdalen Asylum in which her protection shall 
depend upon her good behaviour; she must return to 
her former abode of temptation ; and there was a poison 
in the cup which she tasted, that will perpetually irritate 
insatiable desire. 

In such a city as this, in which are not less than 
seven thousand females of this description, it is devoutly 
to be desired, that some retreat should be afforded to 
those, who, from any cause, are willing to relinquish 
their vices ; and that some association should be formed^ 
which shall save at least a few from what they deem 



58 ( VENERABLE AGE. 

the necessity of prostituting themselves for a piece of 
bread. 

After service, I prayed with the wounded negro wo- 
man, of whose recovery there is some hope. A large 
part of her skull is made bare by suppuration, and 
several parts of the cheek bone have come away; but 
she is perfectly patient, and resigned to life or death. 
She is one of the weak things of the world, who, by her 
patience and humble confidence in Christ, is calculated 
to confound the wise. Is she a fool ? She feels paiu as 
sensibly as other persons ; and comforts herself with 
the plain doctrines of the Gospel. The man of scieuce 
will find, on his death-bed, that this is enviable " foolish- 
ness." 



February 14th. 

*' Now also, when I am old and grey-headed, O God, forsake me 
not." Psalm Ixxi. 18. 

This was my text this evening, in the ward of aged 
and infirm men. The room was more capacious than 
any I have preached in, and contained about two hun- 
dred souls. Every corner, bed, and bench, was full. 
Very many of my hearers were grey-headed men. Some 
of them were the most perfect pictures which my mind 
can conceive of venerable decrepitude and adversity. 
Some of them were like aged trees, whose decayed roots 
have yielded them to the blasts of winter. They have 
fallen on their beds to arise no more. They can be 
moved by others, but their leaves are no longer green, 
and their branches no longer wave in the air. So long 
have they stood, that the younger trees, which grew 
after them, have mouldered into dust, and not a single 
scion shoots up around the withered stump. 



POOR BLIND BOY, 59 

Others of them still stand, but they resemble the 
solitary oak in the field, whose companions of the forest, 
all, all are gone ; whose branches have fallen down, 
whose body is moss grown, whose top has been shattered 
by the lightnings of heaven, and which even now trem- 
bles to its fall. 

" Thus shiver'd by the lurid lightning's blast, 
" The dying fir, late monarch of the grove, 

" Still aims at heaven, with naked arms upcast, 
" And pays, or seems to pay, its wrath with love." 

W. M. JoKsms. 

O my God, when I am old and grey-headed, forsake 
me not; and if I cannot preach to others, let others 
speak to me of Jesus Christ, the sinner's righteousness, 
strength, and salvation ! 

W. R — , the blind boy, repeated a hymn which he 
had committed to memory since I saw him last. With a 
desire to know if the blind can have any notion of sight, 
I said, " My poor little boy, have you ever seen one ray 
of light r 

He roiled up his half-formed, sightless eye-balls, and 
said, "I can tell by my feelings when it is day, and 
when it is night ; when there is light in the room, and 
when there an't : that's all, Sir." 

" Can you think how a man in appearance differs 
from a tree V 

" I have never seen a tree, but I know how a man 
feels/' 

" Weil, child, you must hear what Christ says : 
believe in him, love him; for he died for sinners; and 
then you will see him in a better world." 

When I was going down stairs, the man, c< whose 



80 THE WELL-WORN BIBLE. 

countenance indicates past intemperance," referred to 
under the date of January 27th, and who has been un- 
usually serious ever since, presented himself, and said, 
in a low voice, that he should be very thankful if I 
could procure him a hymn-book. It was his intention 
to have made the application privately, that he might 
not have rivals; but two or three aged women heard 
him, and expressed their hope that I should not forget 
them. The books already distributed, I see at least 
twice a week, and find that they are devoted to a pro- 
per use. Shall this man, apparently under deep con« 
viction, a shoe-maker for paupers, be denied his request? 
The books cost about fifty cents each. It is a small 
sum, indeed, but it may accomplish much good. 



February 11th. 

For more than a week, with the exception of Thurs- 
day evening, and a few hours on Friday, I have been 
confined to my room by sickness; but to-day I found 
the way to the Hospital and Almshouse, and was en- 
abled to preach in both places, to many more grievously 
afflicted than myself. Ali very solicitously inquired 
after my health ; and without doubt, many sincere 
prayers were offered for my recovery. George sat on 
one side of me, and the blind boy on the other. Before 
me stood a table, covered with coarse, but clean linen;, 
which served me for a pulpit, and supported a quarto 
Bible. It was the better for wear; and although the 
property of an individual, yet the use has been common 
to many widows, who have designated passages of pe- 
culiar interest to them, by more than one hundred dif- 
ferent shreds of calico. Until the Bible Soeietv, com- 



THE LUXURY OF DOING GOOD, 51 

posed of young men, began a distribution in the Alms- 
bouse, the word of God was a scarce article among the 
children of poverty-? New applications were made for 
hymn-books, by some who told me they were " poor old 
creatures, and had nothing but religion to comfort 
them." Not one obtained the favour which he sought, 
but they shall be gratified, if God preserves me, and 
gives the opportunity of seeing thern at the appointed 
time of social praise, 



February 21st. 

W. R — -, who is without father, without mother, and 
without relative, or, at least, without any person who 
recognizes relation either by blood or affinity, repeated 
seven stanzas which he had committed to memory since 
the last sabbath. 

To the poor old creatures I gave neither silver nor 
gold ; but what may be of more use to them, a sermon, 
and some sacred songs. When the ignorant are anxious 
to learn, to teach them what relates to their everlasting 
peace, affords higher gratification, than the luxury of 
that praise which is bestowed by the good ; a luxury, 
which none but idiots would reject. 



* The young men first sought out the cause which they kntvs 
not; and since that time, the poor in the Hospital and Almshouse 
have been honourably supplied by the two Bible Societies in this 
city. The Bibles have been uniformly preserved with great car*. 



62 THE PRIDE OF CHASTITY, 

February 22nd* 



■ In vain 



" To rave at mischief, if the cause remain.' 

It is the duty of Christians to seek the wanderer, 
and, if possible, reclaim the most abandoned. If proper 
means are not used to reform those who have departed 
from the paths of peace, the pious ought not to com- 
plain that the wicked continue in iniquity; and that 
persons once polluted return to their wallowing in sens- 
uality. What has been done to restore the fallen females 
of this city? To which of them has any benevolent 
society proffered protection ? What female has sought 
to convince one of the miserable of her own sex, that the 
door of mercy is unfolded, and that there is hope for 
one, who may have been the habitation of seven 
devils? 

It would be grateful to believe that many have so far 
subdued what is called the pride of chastity, as to 
imitate the Saviour of sinners in seeking the lost. Un- 
kindness and contempt have hardened many wretched 
wanderers, and left others to sink, who possibly might 
have been saved. Legion is the name of that unhappy 
class of persons, who, in the fondness of expectation, in 
the security of promise, in the ardour of youth, and 
madness of blood, have once yielded to the strong 
allurements of pleasure, but who would never have 
yielded to a second deceiver, had not the scorn of cruel 
relatives forced them to the streets for bread ; or to the 
bagnio, for the gloomy satisfaction of securing an un- 
timely grave. 

Could we trust our own integrity to shield our re- 



THE CARELESS FATHER. 63 

putation, or could we bear unjust reproach for Christ's 
sake, we might visit, with hearts of mercy, and hands of 
beneficence, the most notorious offenders. 

The writer has to-day witnessed one laudable attempt. 
Two ladies, on Wednesday last, read what of my journal 
was then written, and felt such an interest in the girl of 
fifteen, M. D — , that they resolved to invite her return 
from perdition. One of these pious persons accom- 
panied me to the Hospital, and held a private conference 
with the motherless child, who wept, professed a desire 
to reform, and seemed grateful for the attention. She 
could not read; neither can she repeat the "Lord's 
prayer/' What must have employed the attention of 
her father ] Alas ! he is one of those parents, of whom 
the great Milton says, 

* Yet they a beauteous offspring shall beget. 

11 For that fair female troop thou saw'st, that seem'd 

" Of goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, 

M Yet empty of all good, wherein consists 

" Woman's domestic honour and chief praise ; 

" Bred only and compleated to the taste 

li Of lustful appetence, to sing, to fl»— *, 

M To dress, and troll the tongue, and roll the eye." 

Paradise Lost, B. xi. 1. 613. 

These children of Cain are numerous; and parents 
of this description, who ought to sustain the double 
office of father and mother to their daughters, must 
render a most solemn account in the general judgment. 
How many must confess that they have been the indirect 
causes of the prostitution of their families ! " If thou 
sayest, ' behold, we knew it not/ doth not he that pond- 

ereth the heart consider it] and he that keepeth thy 

F2 



64 MEMORY OF THE BLIND, 

soul, doth not he know it? and shall not he render to 
every man according to his works V 



February 24th. 

Dr. M — delivered an excellent discourse in the Hos- 
pital this morning, to a very attentive audience; and 
expressed his full conviction, that it is as important to 
maintain the preaching of the Gospel in this Institution, 
as in any congregation in the city. Every minister who 
has given me assistance, and all the gentlemen who have 
attended public worship with us, have expressed the 
same opinion. 



February 2&th. 

This evening, with George on my right, and the blind 
boy on my left, we sung three new hymns, to as many 
new tunes. The blind commit to memory with great 
facility; which astonishes me; because when others 
learn to repeat what is written, they are greatly assisted 
by recollecting the Dlace which they have seen. Une 
who preaches from memory, 1 am mlormed, thinks of 
the paragraph page, and even turns over the leaves in 
imagination ; but the memory of the blind cannot be 
local. They must think, and their minds must review 
their own operations, more accurately, than the greater 
part of idle gazers on the works of God. Six or eight 
blind persons can repeat more sacred poetry and pas- 
sages of inspiration, than all the other inhabitants of the 
Almshouse. W. R — repeated another hymn. He can 
always tell me the number of the hymn, and the 
page. 



A WARM SITUATION. 65 

In singing, niy blind musician, very unexpectedly, re- 
peated, and repeated again, the second line of the fourth 
stanza of the 86th hymn ; 

" Midst outward afflictions shall feel Christ within ;" 

and onward all proceeded, with as much ease, and with 
as little discord, as had the repeat been written in the 
music. The deviation was so appropriate, that every 
one who had heard, would have honoured the judgment 
of this eccentric singer. The crowd of hearers was so 
great, that many were obliged to stand, and some on 
crutches too; so that every square foot of room was oc- 
cupied, except immediately before the fire, where the 
preacher stood, very much to his disadvantage. But the 
Lord gave the hearing ear, and one could well afford to 
suffer from the want of fresh air. To stand in a con- 
fined atmosphere, before a warm fire, amidst the sick, 
who #re attentive, is not so painful to the heart, as to 
preach in a spacious church, to empty seats, or to 
thoughtless people, who either whisper, cough need- 
lessly, examine faces, or slumber. All ministers of the 
Gospel must have their respective trials ! 

Of many of my hearers, I may safely say, that I 
have good hope of their spiritual welfare. God bless 
the poor! 

*sr m ** * * * * r^ 

March Zrd. 

;i He answered, and said, ' I will not;' but afterward he repented 
and went." Matt. xxi. 29. 

In the Hospital these words commanded attention ; 
and every eye was fixed from the beginning to the end 
of the discourse. 

F 3 



66 AN INFANT AUDIENCE. 

Three times, weekly, I have an audience, more re- 
sembling that which Christ commonly addressed, than 
can be found in any place not devoted to the poor and 
wretched. May I but tread in the steps of my divine 
Master, blessed will be my ministry. Deeply do I re- 
gret, however, that there should be so much occasion to 
address lewd persons as there really is, and that multi- 
tudes of them should never hear the word of life. The 
language of Christ in the context was applicable to 
some of my hearers ; for some amiable young persons, 
moral in life, who say, " We go, Lord; but go not/' were 
seated around me; and to these intimate friends I said, 
alas ! with truth, " Verily I say unto you, that publicans 
and harlots go into the kingdom of God before you." 

In the Almshouse I preached in a ward which was 
full of poor mothers with little children. They would 
cry, and required attention continually. It was no 
favourable place for thought and speech, and I was not 
a little interrupted by fifty babes. The poor women, 
however, were anxious to hear what they could of the 
discourse, and a small portion of the word of life is bet- 
ter than no food. 



March 1th. 

W. R— , the blind lad, repeated several hymns. I 
have heard him read a chapter in the Bible. He must 
have the book in his hand, opened at the place, (from 
habit, I suppose,) when he will commence, and finish 
the reading of many chapters, with the omission of only 
a few words. The person who first paid attention to 
this child deserves high praise. It was Mrs. ©**** an 
aged Dorcas, abundant in all good worts. She found 



BREAD CAST ON THE WATERS. 67 

him, not merely blind, but like the greater part of the 
children at that time, abounding with a very undesirable 
animation, and ignorant as the beasts which perish. She 
began to cultivate his mind ; and by the assistance of 
" The Friendly Union Society/' in catechising him, the 
benighted orphan has obtained as much knowledge of 
religion as most boys of his age possess. He learns 
weekly more divine songs, and passages of the Bible, 
than any of his companions in years who enjoy the 
light, 



rs***»t s 



March 9th. 

" Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shall find it after 

many days." 
4t He that hath pity on the poor lendeth unto the Lord ; and that 

which he hath given will He pay him again." 

The pious person, of accurate observation, will never 
want evidence of the divine faithfulness . The promises 
of God, which relate to the present life, as well as those 
which respect the future, are undoubtedly fulfilled. 
Who ever perished with hunger, that so trusted in the 
Lord as to be an heir of this promise, " Verily thou 
shalt be fed?" Who ever "waited patiently for the 
Lord," and could not affirm, in the promised hour, " He 
inclined unto me, and heard my cry ; he brought me up 
also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set 
my feet upon a rock, and established my goings V I am 
young, and have seen many promises fulfilled* There 
are many who can declare, " We are old ; yet have we 
not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging 
bread/ 7 This is a general rule, that he who feeds the 
young ravens when they cry, will make all necessary 



68 THE WOUNDED SOLDIER. 

provision for the offspring of his people ; and when we 
find the child of a good man reduced to beggary, there 
is commonly good reason to conclude, that the parents 
of the vagabond, like Eli and Samuel, were defective in 
family government. The promise which is subjoined to 
the command, " Train up a child in the way he should 
go/' is not unfrequently thought to be abrogated, be- 
cause many pious heads of families have the reputation 
of commanding their households after them, who, in 
fact, when their sons make themselves vile, restrain 
them not. Prove that a child has really been educated 
and governed as he ought to have been; and I will then 
prove, that when he is old he will not depart from the 
way of life. 

Today 1 have seen that bread returned, which many 
years since was cast upon the waters. 

In the war, which separated the United States from 
the crown of England, a family was much reduced, by 
the death of one of the heads, and the loss of all his 
personal property. The widow, with her two daughters, 
who were then young ladies, were necessitated to keep 
boarders for their subsistence. Among their boarders, 
was a native of New-England, and a soldier in the cause 
of liberty ; who, while a resident in the widow's family, 
was /visited with dangerous sickness, and must have 
died, had not the daughters of his hostess treated him 
with the most benevolent attention. For six weeks 
they watched the wavering flame of life, with the 
tenderness of sisters, and expected daily to see the last 
glimmerings extinguished by the dampness of death. It 
pleased the Lord to preserve the soldier; but he was 
poor; and his attendants knew it. They did not ex- 
pect remuneration; nor was he able, in the hard times 



A REMARKABLE PROVIDENCE. 69 

which our fathers saw, by the soldier's pay (never paid 
to many of the brave) to discharge even the bill of his 
lodging. So soon as his health would permit, he shoul- 
dered his gun, and marched away, to unite with his 
companions in contest. Never did he again see his 
female guardians ; but, for many years after, he told the 
tale of his misery, and their kindness, to his wife and 
friends, in the land of his nativity. 

The widow and the fatherless cast their bread upon 
the waters: they had pity upon the poor soldier. The 
widow is dead : the soldier has fought his last battle, in 
which, through Christ, he was victorious; has laid aside 
his armour, and now slumbers with those, who shall 
awake on the morning of the resurrection, to walk with 
the Captain of their salvation in the pure robes of 
righteousness. The two daughters survive. The widow 
and the son of the departed soldier are also in the land 
of the living. The son is in Europe ; but his wife and 
mother are in this city. A few days since, they knew 
not that any of the family which had supported their 
near relative were in want, or even in life. But a bene- 
volent young man, of the Episcopal church, asked of 
them assistance for two poor maiden ladies, who were in 
poverty. The daughter-in-law of the deceased patriot 
paid them a visit. On learning her name, they told her 
the story of a soldier of the same name, and she made 
report to her mother-in-law. Behold, it was her hus- 
band of whom the poor women spake, 

It was a remarkable providence, which brought this 
young lady to the assistance of persons, who, without 
her knowledge, had more than thirty years ago pre- 
served the life of her husband's father. One of the 
females is sick, and her sister watches over her sleepless 



TO A CHANGE OF SCENE. 

nights, but that which they loaned to the poor, when 
they were in more prosperous circumstances, is now re- 
turning to them with interest. 

Reader, would you provide for the days of want 
which may come? Would you secure friends for the 
day of adversity? Remember the poor, visit the widow, 
comfort the fatherless ; and when you are reduced to a 
piece of bread, or a handful of meal, may the descendant 
of some one who was relieved by your bounty, furnish 
you with a covering, and a few sticks of wood, at least, 
to warm your withered frame, that you may be grateful 
to God, while you say, with new convictions of its 
truth, that " it is more blessed to give than to re- 
ceive*" 



*+■+* *■*■**•**+ 



March 10th. 



On the 24th of the last month, the writer preached 
in the ward of the Almshouse in which he held public 
worship this morning : but the room was almost cleared 
of its late inhabitants. He was then surrounded by 
many, who have since gone to the state of the dead, 
and others are stretched on the same beds, to die in 
their turn, in the same mariner. It may be necessary, 
here, to observe, that those persons who are unable to 
support themselves in sickness, are carried to the Hospi- 
tal, when there is a probability of their being restored 
to health ; but when they have chronical complaints, or 
when the Hospital is full, they are brought to the Alms- 
house, to die and be buried at the public expense. Ser- 
vants and labourers, who have not been sufficiently 
prudent or successful, to make provision for a lingering 
disease, find this Institution their last home— but one. 



FEMALE ASYLUM* 71 

From the Hospital, those who are pronounced incurable 
are also removed to this place, that their removal may 
make room for new patients, who may be assisted by 
the medical and surgical attendance. 

M. D — , the girl of fifteen years, with returning 
health, appears less humble, so that the intended be- 
nevolence of the ladies who compassionated her, will 
probably be frustrated. Much it is to be feared that 
she is ruined for time and eternity. It has been found 
difficult to procure any place in a decent family, where 
it is proper that she should reside. The situation of 
these women in the Hospital is unfavourable to reform- 
ation; for it is impossible to exclude them from all 
intercourse with wicked men. Possibly, restraint, 
counsel, and kindness, might pluck some of them from 
the flames. Again I exclaim, " O for a Lock, or Mag- 
dalen Hospital."* The different sexes should not only 
have different apartments, but be confined in different 
buildings. In the Magdalen of London, many are pre- 
served from the contempt of the world, idleness, temp- 
tation, and themselves. Some might be instructed in 
religion, and the useful arts : yea, some in this city, as 
well as the metropolis of England, might be rescued 
from perdition. 

Would it not be lawful, and is it not expedient, to 
confine in work-houses some of the clamorous and dis- 
eased persons, who are a nuisance to the city 2 Bride- 
well is a place by far too narrow for one out of every 
hundred, who should be kept at some honest business, 
for their own support. The morals of many very young 

* These Institutions in London are exclusively devoted to out- 
cast females. The first heals them 5 the second protects and 
provides for them. 



72 THE DESERTED ORPHAN. 

inen are corrupted, and their health destroyed, by the 
allurements of those, who walk at liberty, spreading the 
pestilence in all their way. " At the window of iny 
house/' every man of observation in this city may say, 
" I looked through my casement, and beheld among the 
simple ones, 1 discerned among the youths, a young 
man, void of understanding, passing through the street, 
near her corner ; and he went the way to her house in 
the twilight, in the evening, in the black and dark 
night : and, behold, there met him a woman- — —subtle 
of heart." " With her much fair speech, she caused 
him to yield ; with the flattering of her lips she forced 
him." The writer has seen a youth of fifteen years 
going "after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the 
slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks, till 
a dart strike through his liver, as a bird hasteth to the 
snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life." This is 
stated, that parents may beware betimes; for many 
never caution their children, from fastidious delicacy, 
until it is too late ; too late for ever ! 

Last week, a child was found, in the evening, at the 
gate of the Almshouse, which was deaf, dumb, and 
lame. It was sewed up in a blanket; and since no one 
acknowledged it, the Institution humanely received it 
It is one of the effects of Christianity, that such Asylums 
are provided by the community. The child appears to 
be about twelve years of age. But who were the pa- 
rents? Had they been so poor as to be unable to sup- 
port the child, they would have brought him openly^ 
and claimed support. If they were able to protect the 
child, yet deserted it, they have souls, which " were 
made of sterner stuff." There was a similar case of 
desertion some years ago, of a poor idiot, who was found 



THE IDIOT. 73 

in the yard of the Hospital. Whence he came, no one 
knew; but, since he was found on Friday morning, like 
Robinson Crusoe's man, he has been called by that 
name. From his appearance, he must be thirty years 
of age. Where he was born, where he has lived, and 
who were his parents, he knows no more than the oyster 
which adheres to a rock. He has no more reason than 
the sensitive plant, and though he has all the organs of 
speech, yet he never attempts to use thenio Like 
Balaam's ass, he has uttered a few articulate sounds^ 
from compulsion, without understanding their meaning. 
In every respect, Friday, erect like a man, is inferior to 
most animals. Would any of our race have exhibited 
such a spectacle, had not sin, deformity, imbecility, 
mental disorder, and idiotism, entered the world by the 
first transgression ] 

March 13th. 

u Should the world frown, and all its pleasures fly, 

w Should every earthly comfort disappear, 

" And all tne charms of nature sink in darkness, 

" If thou art With me, if thou art my God, 

" Am I not happy ? Can I wish for more? 

" Thy gracious presence well supplies the loss 

€S Of earthly bliss, and yields superior joy 

" To all that universal nature boasts." 

Mrs, Steele, 

Those sick and dying persons, who belong to no 
clergyman's cure, and have regularly attended no place 
of worship, seem to be providentially allotted to me. 
Many, who are ashamed to send for those ministers, 
whom they might have heard habitually, have sent me a 
request to come and- pray with them, and seem to tLink 

d 



74 THREE SICK FAMILIES- 

that I am exclusively their property, because they have 
been so wicked as formerly to slight all religious ordi= 
nances. 

This morning I have visited three sick families. In 
the first, I found a widow with two small children, and 
a young man on the bed of death, v>ho appeared to be 
about twenty-three years of age. He was solemn, and 
deeply anxious about the salvation of his soul. The law 
had performed its appropriate work of alarming, terrify- 
ing, and convincing him; yea, of killing every hope of 
salvation by his personal obedience. By familiar com- 
parisons, I attempted to illustrate the doctrine of a 
sinner's justification, on account of that work which 
was performed, without man's pre-concert, or co- 
operation, when the Son of the Blessed offered up him- 
self a sacrifice for sin. 

In this doctrine there is life, and a gleam of hope ap- 
peared to dawn on the visage of death. The young 
man was much affected ; desired prayers; and earnestly 
entreated me to call again. 

From this place I went to the abode of those maiden 
females, who befriended the sick soldier. I raised the 
outer cellar door, and knocked upon the inner, which 
opened into their abode. A feeble, hollow^ voice said, 
" Come in/' I descended, but on entering saw no per- 
son. Something like a coverlet, (the lining and stuffing 
of which was gone with use, so that nothing remained 
but the patch- work calico, and that defective Jiere and 
there, where one piece was taken, thirty years ago, from 
a gown older, than that which furnished the fellow- 
squares,) was suspended, like a curtain, to divide the 
cellar into a kitchen and bed-room. The sick woman 
drew this curtaiu to behold her visitor. 



ALONE, AND NOT ALONE. 7o 

*' What ! are you alone V 

" Yes, alone ; but not alone neither." She stretched 
forth her hand, and after a few convulsive straggles 
with the enemy at her vitals, said, " I am glad to see 
you: I rejoice to see any Christian being." Her sister 
was gone out to work, for the day, but being near, ran 
in frequently to assist her patient. I expressed my sur- 
prise, that when she was so dangerously sick, she should 
be deserted ; but she replied, that it was necessary for 
their subsistence, and she was as willing to die with 
God alone, as with any other company. After I had 
prayed with her, she said, " What a mercy it is to me, 
that God has afflicted me ! that he did not cut me 
down, and sweep me away in a moment ! that he has 
not punished me as I have deserved ! He has visited me 
with lingering sickness, that I might know him, and love 
him better." Such is the humility, gratitude, and faith 
of this woman, that in prayer I had little else to do, 
than to thank God for giving such rich consolations of 
grace as she experienced, to miserable sinners. Until 
she was providentially found by the compassionate, she 
suffered from the want of many of the necessaries of 
life ; but now " she is quite comfortable." 
. Lastly, I visited the widow and the fatherless, to 
learn their present situation. A few days ago I was at 
the abode of the same woman, and her little son was 
dangerously sick. She watched with him incessantly, 
which made me apprehensive that I should find her ill ; 
and I was not disappointed. The little boy saw me 
coming, and welcomed me with a smile ; but the mother 
was almost insensible; was confined to the bed; had 
seat for no physician ; and had no other nurse than her 
G 2 



?t> THE SHOE-BINDER. 

half-recovered child. This woman, I positively know* 
has been industrious, and poverty ia her case is not her 
fault; unless it be a crime to find needles and silk, to 
close and bind Morocco shoes at the rate of four 
shillings for twelve pair, when every cord of wood 
costs her more money than she can accumulate in a 
month. 

For her relief, I had only to state her case to Mrs, 
B — and Mrs. P — , daughters of faithful Sarah, who 
have often relieved her, and will continue to do it, with 
truly tender beneticence. She will not want; for these 
friends of Jesus will visit her in person ; and while they 
raise the drooping head, will pour into the lacerated 
heart the balm of Gospel peace. There are many such 
pious women in this city, and God reward them a 
thousand fold! 

March 14th. 

This evening was devoted to public worship, private 
conversation, and the hearing of hymns repeated, in the 
Almshouse. The usual solemnity prevailed, and many 
were affected at the inquiry, " Wffl ye also go away ]' ; 
After the discourse, some of the blind stood around me 
to be instructed, and expressed so much gratitude, that 
I really felt ashamed that any worm should be thought 
a guide, comforter, and almost a saviour. Let it not be 
thought, however, that half, or even a fourth part of the 
thousand people in this Institution, are disposed to pay 
constant attention to the preaching of the GospeL 
Some miserable, polluted beings never show themselves 
in our assemblies ; some are like the half-day hearen 



A SCOTCH MATRON, 77 

a more polite audience, and some never wish to see a 
minister, until they think death ready to plunge them 
into hell. 



*■**+*■+■*■+* 



March 11th. 

Most of my hearers, this morning, were aged wo- 
men, who are foreigners; and almost every second person 
was upon crutches. I never saw, at any one time, so 
many wooden limbs as were now presented. 

The good matron, from Berwick upon Tweed, was 
seated with her cane in her hand, and clad with a blue 
cloak, which has become almost white with age and use. 
It is a cloak by day, and a covering by night. From its 
texture, I am led to suppose, that it must have seen bet- 
ter days, when its owner had not outlived all her friends. 
Happy is that person, who being free from debt, and at 
peace with mankind, can wrap himself in his mantle, 
saying, " I have hope in Christ ; I brought nothing into 
the world ; I can carry nothing away ; let this garment 
be my winding sheet; I am ready to depart; come, 
Lord Jesus, come quickly."* There was no object in 
the room, which did not excite compassion, except a lit- 
tle bird, which sung occasionally a soft song to a poor 
invalid, its mistress. She listened to me, to-day, and 
after service besought me with tears, that 1 would not 
let it be " so long" before I came again. Alas ! I pitied 
her. Her limbs are drawn into knots by the rheumatism, 

* This aged woman, in the spring of 1812, became quite infirm. 
Her cheerfulness seemed to be supplanted by an earnest desire to 
depart and be with Jesus. She was more childish than when the 
above was written; and in June, fell asleep; but her piety was 
apparent under ail circumstances. 
G 3 



78 DEATH OF MISS L— . 

and she cannot leave her bed; but other persons under 
similar confinement earnestly contend for their turns,, 
and I must preach in eight or ten wards before she can 
be gratified. 

The Hospital, with the approach of warmer weather, 
begins to part with some of the patients, who could not 
enoure the fronts of winter. Still there was a full room, 
this afternoon ; and more hearers than I could have ad- 
dressed in a week, had I gone on several missioas, to 
the dispersed inhabitants of the wilderness. Why is not 
one soul as valuable in this city, as one soul in India? 
The Gospel should be preached to every creature; but 
the messenger should begin at Jerusalem, and make 
a regular progression to "all the region round about" 
her. 

So long as sin reigns, and this city exists a commercial 
mart, the two Institutions in which I labour, will abound 
with miserable offenders, who must perish, if the bread 
of salvation be denied them. Here sinners meet, not 
only from every State in the Union, but from almost 
every kingdom of Europe. 



****•*■-»■*■* -j-^-^ 



March 20th. 

Miss L**** is numbered with the dead. She was re- 
stored to reason, and continued sane for a few days; 
but, from delicacy of constitution, could not sustain 
the shock. She was so extremely weak and low, that 
few were permitted to visit the unfortunate victim of 
tragical farce, before she resigned her life into the hands 
of God. 

Of all the disorders, to which humanity is subject, 
that of insanity is the most dreadful ; because, in almost 



COMFORT TO THE INSANE. 79 

every instance, it puts the patient beyond the reach of 
the Gospel. In two hundred cases, I have known only 
two persons who were benefited by religious instruction. 
In one of these, a young man, who was on the recovery, 
but deeply concerned for the salvation of his soul, ap- 
parently derived consolation from repeated instructions. 
It was hope ia the mercy of God, which finally estab- 
lished his soul in peace ; and without this he would pro- 
bably have made a second, and fatally successful attempt 
upon his life. The word of God, when it was personally 
applied, he found to be a far better remedy for mental 
anguish, than the razor, which had stained his hand 
with his own blood. 



March 21st. 

Had an enemy seen me to-night, he could not have 
wished me a more unpleasant situation than I had : or a 
friend to Jesus, he could not have desired a better em- 
ployment than I found in the Almshouse. The ward of 
blind people was crowded, and many, who sought to 
enter, were unable. The room was warm, and the 
atmosphere odious ; but since our Master stooped to the 
meanest condition; yea, endured the hardest fare, how- 
could ministers retreat, until they had delivered their 
message? The singing was animated, and the attention 
of the hearers compensated for tne want of wholesome 
air. When the weather is warm, it is impossible to be 
comfortable, where are twenty beds, ana more than one 
hundred people, respiring the atmosphere of a single 
room, again and again. After the sermon, I was suf- 
ficiently fatigued to have left the place. At this mo- 



BLIND SOFA. 

meni } a little boy, wkh a pair of bright eyes, wanted to 
repeat a hymn; and two sick persons sent a request 
that I would pay them a visit. In going to them, I 
passed through several rooms, in one of which blind 
Sofa, an old German woman, hearing my voice, stretched 
forth her hand to detain me. She has been one of my 
constant auditors, and sings broken English with George 
very devoutly. Her natural eyes see not ; but her mind 
discerns glorious things out of the Gospel, which her 
heart loves. It was a grief to this poor saint, that she 
could not attend public worship this evening. She was 
too unwell to leave her room, " But you must tell me/' 
she cried, " what your text was." 

I replied, " She hath done what she could/' and 
began to tell her what use 1 made of these words. u Oh! 
I remember/' she said, " the passage of Scripture ;" 
and convinced me that she was well acquainted with 
the context; which one of her companions promised 
immediately to read for her; and I departed to the bed 
of an aged man, a soldier in the revolution, who is 
grievously atliicted with an inflammation of the head. 
He has served as a governor of the boys, and has assisted 
ia keeping the flock of children still, who surrounded 
the door of the ward in which I preach. For many 
reasons I was sorry to find him sick. What I should do 
without him, for a constable or tithing man among the 
noisy little ones, I do not know. Alas! almost every 
old soldier, when the toils of war are over, will drink 
too freely. It is the case with this man. At the fear 
of death he trembles, but says, that if he was certain 
of pardon and freedom from sin, he should be glad to 
die. V\ r hiie I conversed and prayed with him, many o£ 



THE ALMSHOUSE, 81 

his room-mates, aged, infirm, deformed, and miserable in 
appearance, listened to my speech, and on my de- 
parture, offered me their hands with many blessings. 

Lastly, I visited a sick woman. " Do \ou know that 
you are a sinner T " Gh ! I am one of the very worst I" 
This commenced a dialogue, which was concluded with 
prayer. Her anxiety of mind is great, and her sickness 
dangerous. Such instruction as seemed most suitable, 
was freely given. Glad, indeed, and yet sorry was T, 
to leave her ; for a fever made her very offensive while 
her mind was prepared to receive the Gospel. The 
room was full of old and young, sick and well, good and 
bad. 

On the general management of the Almshouse, I feel 
constrained to make a few remarks. I do not censure 
the corporation of the city, or the present superin- 
tendent, for he cannot be every where, to manage every 
thing ; and he certainly attends to his duty w ith fidelity. 
The plan of the house is radically wrong. All the 
apartments are large, and have connexion with each 
other. There is no public hall in which all the paupers 
could eat at once; but different messes, at different 
times, are dispersed through the house. Although 
seventy or eighty children are lodged in one room, in 
which all the beds touch, yet many are allowed to ram- 
ble through all the apartments, and many live entirely 
with old people. In some rooms, husbands and wives* 
with children, and even unmarried persons sleep to- 
gether. Marriage is permitted in the Institution, 
because it cannot be prevented, under existing circum- 
stances, to procreate a future race of paupers, These 
things should not be. The present establishment, in 
the heart of the city, should be sold ; & spacious situa- 



82 NEW REGULATIONS. 

tion should be occupied, at some distance from the 
present; and instead of one immense pile of buildings, 
there should be at least four, in as many separate en- 
closures. One should be allotted to males, another to 
females, a third to children, and the fourth, containing 
a convenient place for public worship, to the superin- 
tendent's family, and the various offices of the Institu- 
tion. No sort of connexion should subsist between 
men, women, and children. This would prevent the 
multiplication of many paupers, and much expense. A 
minister of the Gospel, and a teacher of children, no 
less than a physician, should be officers in the establish- 
ment, and co operate in the government, with the super- 
intendent. The rooms should be small; and all who 
are able, should work. Aii in tolerable health, in each 
department, should take their meals together, to prevent 
every room from becoming a cook-shop and a bed- 
chamber. 

Several of the large rooms are now filled with decent 
people, and when an unfortuuate person can obtain a 
birth in one of them, he ought to think it a great favour; 
but the greater part of tne wards abound with the vile; 
and here and there a solitary believer is vexed with the 
conversation of this second Sodom. Every good man 
must pray, " Oh God ! if poverty be my lot, assign me 
not a residence among such transgressors: let me die in 
some solitary hovel, where I shall not hear thy name 
blasphemed," 

March 22nd, 

The young man whom I visited on the 13th of the 
present month, I found to-day weaker in body, and in 



SINGLED DIALECTS, 83 

nearly the same state of mind. He requested me to say 
the same things again, which I had communicated on a 
former visit ; for he wished more perfectly to under- 
stand the ground of justification, and the way of life, 
Again was proclaimed the sinner's hope; again the 
glassy eyes, almost closed in death, shed the full tear ; 
again we prayed, and again he entreated me to renew 
my visit. But death will come first. Whether he is to 
be saved or lost^ is beyond human ken ; but where the 
Gospel is heard with attention, and apparent faith in it, 
we may entertain the fond persuasion, that it is the 
power of God unto salvation » 



March 1\tlu 



When we attempt to praise God in the Almshouse, 
the dialect of almost every nation is heard ; for the 
English, Scotch, Irish, Dutch, German, French, Spanish, 
and Italian, as well as American poor, have met to- 
gether. What some of the foreigners want in pronunci- 
ation, they more than make up in their musical notes, 
I have become, now, so accustomed to this confusion of 
dialects, that it does not disturb my devotion. Nine 
persons are dangerously sick in the room where I 
preached this morning. One of them was well last 
Thursday evening, attended service in the blind ward, 
and urged me to preach in her room to-day, with which 
request I complied ; and possibly she may have heard 
her last sermon. She is now burning with a fever. She 
is a widow of good report, of amiable countenance, and 
of exemplary deportment. She has one little daughter 
of about eight years of age* The poor-house has be- 
come her home, in consequence of a " white swelling" 



"Wt THE AULD SCOTCHMAN. 

on one of her limbs, which is incurable, and utterly 
prevents her from labour. Poor woman ! Her trials are 
great ; but they will be sanctified to her good, and the 
divine glory; for she is a child of the most High, a 
daughter of the Lord Almighty. 

My tithing man sent for me to pray with him again. 
His knees bowed at his bed-side, while we offered up 
such petitions as were deemed most appropriate. 

From him I turned to a Scotchman, in the same 
l"Oom, who on the fourth day of this month commenced 
his eighty-fifth year. He told me in the broad dialect of 
the land of his nativity, that he was, " very auld, and 
without feeling a'most, I cannae e'en feel," said he, 
laying his hand on his vest, " to button my clothes." 

" You know then," I said, " The force of Solomon's 
expressions, concerning that state in which the grinders 
are few, desire fails; the hands, the keepers of the 
house, tremble; and the knees, the strong men, bow 
themselves. The grasshopper, every little trifle, must 
have become a burthen." 

*' Few and evil," he replied, " have the years of my 
life been." The old man was. well acquainted with 
the system of Christianity ; and, indeed, where will 
you find a native of Scotland, that is destitute of 
doctrinal knowledge 1 u Could I be sure," he said, " of 
an interest in Christ, I should think myself a happy 
man." 

" From what you have already said, I should think 
that you had a well-grounded hope of your being in 
Christ by faith ; and I trust it will be well with you, 
when this time-eaten garment shall be laid aside." 

" My dear Sir, no man is certain until the very last, 
until he is secure; for wide is the gate, and broad is the 



NOISY CHILDREN. 85 

way, which leadeth to death, while straight is the gate, 
and narrow the way, which leadeth to life. I have hope, 
however/' When I left him, he thanked me for a little 
attention to " an auld nion." While I was coming out, 
two other persons of seventy years arose to pay their 
respects to me. One was a tall, pale, hoary headed man; 
and the other was blind. When I exhorted them to 
pray, the tears of the former fell upon his frosted beard. 
They said, that in such a noisy place, they found it dif- 
ficult to pour out their hearts to God in any corner, but 
in the night, when most around them were asleep, they 
always attempted it. 

I could easily believe their assertion, for on descend- 
ing, and crossing the yard, I met not less than one 
hundred little children, without any one to restrain 
them, playing all manner of gambols, and roaring like 
the young bears of the wilderness. Some of the older 
ones are catechized on the sabbath, by pious individuals, 
and the members of the " Friendly Union Society,'' but 
these were under five years of age ; and have become 
expert in mischief. They should have a governess as 
well as a nurse; and under the general superintendent, 
there should be at least a lieutenant over children. 
Who will not be astonished, when I state, that some 
affluent churches allow some of their baptized children 
to be educated in such a school of immorality as this 1 
The words of Crabbe are so appropriate, that I beg 
the reader to peruse them* 

" At last, with all their words and work content, 
u Back to their homes the prudent Vestry went, 
u And Richard Monday to the work-house sent; 
" There was be pinch'd and pitied, thump'd and fed, 
u And duly took his beatings and his brescl ; 
H 



8£ BAD SINGING, 

" Patient in all control, in all abuse, 

c< He found contempt and kicking have their user 

" Sad, silent, supple ; bending to the blow, 

*' A slave of slaves, the lowest of the low. 

c * His patient soul gave way to all things base, 

" He knew no shame, he dreaded no disgrace ; 

" It seems so well his passions he supprest, 

" No feeling stirr'd his ever torpid breast. 

■* Him might the meanest pauper bruise and cheat ; 

" He was a footstool for the beggar's feet ; 

" His were the legs that run at all commands, 

" They us'd, on all occasions, Richard's hands." 

In the afternoon, I had the pleasure of a clean room 
in the Hospital, and attentive hearers. Many of them 
are dying men, and under such circumstances, who 
would not be attentive? It is a subject of no small 
gratitude with me, that this Institution is well managed; 
that the superintendent, under the honourable governors, 
keeps his numerous family in subjection ; and, so far as 
he is able, promotes the spiritual, as well as temporal 
welfare of the patients. 

In the Hospital, we are most deficient in that im- 
portant part of worship, the singing of psalms and 
hymns. I want sudi a clerk here as I have in the 
Almshouse; but since there is no such patient as 
George, I am happy to express my gratitude to Mr. 
Henry Crocker, for repeatedly leading in our 
sacred songs. He has kindly volunteered his ser- 
vices in many instances, and I trust the Lord will re- 
ward him for his exertions to help the devotion of the 
poor. 



A FASHIONABLE LADY. 87 



April bth, 1812. 

Since my last date, I have performed my usual ser- 
vices to the poor, and wish it to be understood, that I 
shall regularly preach in the Almshouse twice, and in 
the Hospital once, weekly, when I do not give the 
reader notice of my absence. 

This morning the superintendent of the Hospital 
called, with a request that I would visit one of the 
patients. I went to the bed-side of the unfortunate 
female; found her in tears, and left her in tears. 
And would to God, that my fellow-citizens, who cer- 
tainly are not devoid of commisseration, might turn 
their attention to a Magdalen Asylum, when I 
assure them that the tale I relate, is no less true than 
affecting. 

Four years ago, a certain dame, of this city, whose 
name might be given, would it answer any valuable pur- 
pose, visited the town of E n, in the state of New 7 - 

York, in the character, and as the vulgar would think, 
in the attire of a fashionable lady. By appearauces 
and professions, she imposed on the simple. She found 
a poor, ignorant widow, who had many children, whom 
it was difficult for her to support; and among them a 
daughter of twelve years, who was, in the estimation of 
a harridan, adapted to procure the spending-money of 
the licentious in the middle class of sensualists. The 
girl was masculine, and ignorant. The mother gave 
credit to the speeches of a fine lady ; and consented to 
part with her child, that the deceiver might make her a 
city chambermaid of distinction. The daughter was 
promised high wages, kind treatment, and easy service, 

H2 



68 A FEMALE MONSTER. 

The mother was deluded; the deceiver triumphed; the 
child was ruined. The female monster brought her 
prey to this city, and before she was thirteen years of 
age, prostituted her to the vilest purposes. In this 
deplorable situation she has been almost four years. In 
the lapse of this time, her mother has twice been to this 
city in search for her child, but could not find her. 
Once A — W — knew that her parent was in pursuit of 
her, and would have gone, with all her growing con- 
sciousness of guilt, to meet one, who could have pardon- 
ed, while she reproved; but the monster who had 
decoyed her from her mother, absolutely locked her 
into her chamber, and by force made her drunk with 
cordials. 

Now the poor, miserable, seduced being, is in the 
Hospital, and apparently nigh to the grave. No mother 
is near to comfort her. She cannot read the Bible. 
She has, however, and I bless God for the circumstance, 
the pious instructions, attentions, and prayers of the 
present matron, who seeks to imitate her Master, by 
doing good to the most profligate. 

The child knew that she was a sinner, and has been 
for some days deeply afflicted in spirit, as well as in 
body. Such copious weeping I never saw before, in 
any single instance. I doubt whether Mary, who 
washed the feet of Jesus, shed more tears in the same 
time. But floods of tears cannot wash away the guilt 
and pollution of one sin. The blood of Christ, the 
precious blood of the atonement, cleanses believers from 
all sin. 

The hope which may be rationally entertained of the 
salvation of this person, is certainly more animating than 
that which can be cherished concerning thousands, who 



MARY MAGDALEN. 89 

dwell at ease; and hundreds who, not knowing the 
power of God, think it can be of no service to preach 
the Gospel to smell wretches as inhabit charitable 
Institutions. Let those, who are ignorant of the efficacy 
of the living word and blood of Christ, and who never- 
theless deem themselves Christians, know assuredly, 
that there is more reason to expect the salvation of a 
Mary Magdalen,* than of their souls. 

In another corner of the same ward, lay a mother of 
harlots, whose face scarcely resembles any thing human. 
Lazarus, who probably knew nothing of the modern 
demand for mercury, and the sores it produces, was 
not more afflicted than this woman. For years past she 
has made merchandize of many, many female boarders, 
but seeing the grief of A — W — , and being affected at 
the situation of the country girl, she said to me, " I am 
drawing near to the eternal world ; but although I have 
encouraged many to continue in sin, yet -J thank God 
that I never stole away and ruined such an innocent 
child as that. That's all my consolation V Miserable 
consolation, indeed ! But in this manner, the vilest of 
dying sinners seek consolation, by comparing them- 
selves with some of their companions, whom they deem 
more obnoxious to divine justice than themselves. The 
Pharisee was not singular in the expression of his hearty 
" God, I thank thee that I am not as other men/' 

* Common use has rendered this name descriptive of a de- 
graded female; but the Scriptures present no evidence that Mary 
Magdalen was a woman of the city. The sinner of whom we 
read in Luke vii. 37, is not called Mary ; but it was Mary, the 
sister of Lazarus, who in the house of another Simon, the leper, 
anointed the bead of Jesus. 

H 3 



$0 A COMPASSIONATE MAN, 

April 6th. 

A — W — continues in the same state of body and 
mind. She was convulsed with emotion; wept while 
I prayed for ber; thanked me for my attention; and 
seemed to think herself too vile to excite even a fellow- 
sinner's commisseration. 



April 1th. 

How it might have affected others I know not, but 
to me it was an interesting sight to see a tall respec table 
female of about fifty-five years brought into our assembly 
in the Almshouse, by a compassionate man, that she 
might hear the word of God* The rheumatism has 
prevented the use of her limbs ; so that she can neither 
stand nor walk; but she could sit and listen to the 
doctrine which she loves. After sermon, the same man 
took her in his arms to her own ward.* 

* This man had been visited with the palsy, but was now in the 
possession of his usual strength. After the above date be fre- 
quently performed the same service for the same pious woman. 
Sometime in the winter of 1812, he was taken sick, with a second 
attack of his disorder. I visited him; found him much agitated 
in soul, and anxious to know what he should do to be saved, Kis 
fins were his tormentors. Christ, the Saviour of sinners, was of- 
fered to his acceptance, and after prayer I left him weeping, A 
few days after, he requested to see me, when I nad been preach- 
ing and praying with c^her sick persons. Such was my fatigue, 
and indisposition of body, that I excused myself for that time : but 
the next morning I found that he died, while expressing a wish 
that I were present tc pray for him. This is the only instance in 
which I have excused myself from any unpleasant duty of this 
fcind; and, although I cannot severely censure myself : because I 



A PITIABLE OBJECT. 91 

April 21st. 

The most pitiable object, whom I have seen of late, 
is an Irish woman, who is dangerously sick of a fever 
in the Almshouse. She was a good mother, and wife, 
before her husband deserted her; and she is a good 
mother still. From every one, who has known her, I 
learn a favourable account of her moral conduct. To- 
day she would have melted any heart. Four little 
children surrounded her bed, who were all of them like 
herself, and all so much like one another, that nothing 
but stature seemed to distinguish cue from the cthei\ 
All of them were crying for their poor- mother. The 
whole family lately came from Ireland, but the husband; 
has left her with her babes to languish, and perhaps to 
die, without a friend. Alas! that drunkenness should, 
in this country, transform a generous and wildly 
enthusiastic son of Erin into something worse than a- 
brute! In Hiberuia, it is probable that this same fellow 
would have divided his last potatoe with his superan- 
nuated grandmother ; or would have shed his blood in 
defence of his wife and children ; but here, where ar- 
dent spirits are sold for six shillings by the gallon, wife, 
children, relatives, and friends, may all go to the Alms= 
house, or even to " potter's field," for a glass of grog. v 

was really sick, yet I think it will be the last, If I can stand and 
ipeak. I am resolved to pray with dying sinners, who request me 
to be their leader in devotion. 

* It is said thai a newly naturalized citizen, to induce some of 
his countrymen to emigrate to this country, wrote to his friend, 
* k that in America a man might get drunk twice for sixpence I" 
This is too true ! 



92 THE DESERTED MOTHER-' 

April 2514. 

Again I have seen, beside many other sick persons, 
the deserted Irish woman. She was found with three 
children in one bed, in a room where were main widows, 
or deserted females, m the same predicament. Two 
were laid at the foot of the bed; one was at her side; 
and the youngest was in the arms of a friend in adversity. 
If the children are preserved from the putrid fever, it 
will astonish me. For them sue wept, and prayed to 
live, while several of her acquaintance sobbed in unison. 
If any situation can be imagined, which requires much 
grace to enable one to l^sigi. life without a murmur, 
it is that of a deserted wife, wjlo Ijas little babes hang- 
ing about her parched lips and ranting besom. What 
will become of them, in this busy world, where thousands 
might say hi truth, " 1 looked on my right hand, and 
beheld, but there was no man that would know me : 
refuge failed me; no man cared for my soul!" Psalm 
cxlii. 4L 

**■ .r\x y\* t^r r*r *^- 

May 16th. 

Since the last introduction of the name of W— - 
R — , the blind boy, he has repeated, weekly, a hymn; 
and this evening more little children proposed to follow 
his example than the writer could patiently hear. Thej 
had the promise of being attended to at our next meet- 
ing, and were promised a little book ; for the Rev. Mr. 

(now Dr.) P 1, had presented a bundle of tracts, 

with Owen on the 130th Psalm, for the benefit of the 
poor. This reverend gentleman I have never seen, but 



THE FIRE. $$ 

his books shall be loaned to those, who think every 
religious book a treasure; and in heaven some one may 
bless him for publishing and distributing, gratuitously 
and otherwise, a cheap edition of a book, which clearly 
illustrates the doctrine of pardon. 

May 19tk. 

" Thus must foul earth be purified by fire ! 

u Her guilty hosts in burning seas expire ! 

" Thus must her dust, which drank her Maker's blood, 

" Be wash'd away beneath a flaming flood." 

B. Francis. 

Who can behold a city in flames, and not think of 
that day in which the earth shall burn like an oven ; in 
which all things in it shall be consumed I While on my 
way to the Almshouse, on the morning of this holy day, 
the cry of fire resounded from a thousand tongues. The 
wind was unusually boisterous for a clear day, and the 
buildings in the vicinity of the fire were of wood. In a 
few moments, many houses were enveloped in the gene- 
ral conflagration, and before one o'clock, more than one 
hundred tenements were reduced to ashes. Most of 
these were inhabited by two or three poor families. The 
whole scene was dreadful. Mothers were running in 
every direction in pursuit of their lost children, and 
husbands, in consternation, were seeking for their wives. 
Many of the public buildings took fire, and for some 
time half of the city seemed to wait a fiery doom. In 
the midst of this distress, I entered the Almshouse. In 
the blind ward, one of my pious hearers, blind P — — , 
was in a fit, and her room-mates were crying aloud for 
her, and for themselves. They knew that the fire was 



94 THE FIXE IMPROVED, 

near, and thought that no one would take the trouble 
to lead thein out, even should the house over their 
heads he in flames. To be blind, and to be near the 
raging element, must be alarming indeed! Oh! that 
they would consider this, who are blind, while they 
stand on the brink of hell ! At the sound of my voice in 
the room, many exclaimed, " our friend has come," 
who felt for me, and hung around the skirts of my gar- 
ment, praying that I would lead them out, until I re- 
peatedly assured them that they were in no immediate 
danger. During the violence of the conflagration, I 
visited several wards, and attempted to make use of the 
scene, by reminding the paupers, of that day in which 
the heavens being roiled together as a scroll shall pass 
away, and the material universe shall melt with fervent 
heat. Before twelve o'clock they were sufficiently com- 
posed to attend to a discourse, in which they were 
taught to seek the best things, even durable riches and 
righteousness. 

Ten persons were confined to their beds in the room 
in the Hospital which was this afternoon visited by the 
word of the Lord; and. one of them, who seemed un- 
usually tender upon religious subjects, told me in con- 
versation, that many had been the troubles of his life, 
u but they are nor worthy to be named; for I've de= 
served them all, and I think that they have been for my 
good." He was born in England, bred a brewer, and 
for some time past, had been a journeyman at his trade 
in this city. On the first of May, a time when half of 
the poor remove from one shed to another, he was left 
houseless for the night. The room which he had oc- 
cupied, had been let to another, who could pay a higher 
rent. He could not, on that day, procure another 



A HARD CASE: 95 

tenement; and the new occupant, according to the 
custom of this good city, cast the furniture of T — 
T— into the street. To preserve his goods during the 
night, the brewer seated himseW on a stoop beside 
them. When all was silent but the hourly rap of the 
watchmen on the pavement, he fell asleep. A young 
rogue passed that way, and undertook to search the 
sleeper's pockets, in which he found some money ; but 
could not make good his retreat, without arousing his 
plundered neighbour. The brewer gave him chase, and 
followed him into a cellar. This is the last that he re- 
members of the events of the night, but in the morning 
he was found alone, with a bruised head, and a broken 
leg, " It is all well, however," said he, concluding his 
tale with a sigh, " for the sufferings of the present state 
are not worthy to be compared with the glory which 
shall be revealed in us/' 

On the latter part of the last week, the writer had the 
pleasure of finding two poor women in the suburbs, 
who are now rejoicing in the "just God and Saviour/' 
but who had never listened to the glad sound of the 
Gospel, before they heard one of his discourses in a 
school room. At that time he preached under the 
patronage of the " Friendly Union Society," and these 
females turned in, as they informed him, from idle 
curiosity; but by the good will of God, their attention 
was arrested. It was the" first discourse whicli they 
had heard for many months. They were not in the 
habit of attending public worship in any place; but 
have since given abundant evidence, that they love all 
the ordinances of Christ's kingdom. 

At the solicitation of these children in the faith, ac- 
companied by the request of several poor families, he 



§6 THE PHEACHING ROOM* 

sought on Friday last some convenient place to open a 
■weekly lecture. Having fixed his eye upon a school 
Louse which he deemed suitable to his purpose, he drew 
near to it, and half consented to retire, from the re- 
flection, that he could not afford to hire it. The lecture 
was to be free for the poor ; and since contributions 
were not to be taken up, who will furnish lights, and 
prepare for our reception] He had opened the gate 
before he had answered this question, and would have 
drawn back to make some previous arrangement, had 
not the master presented himself, like one who should 
say, "Pray, Sir, what is your business?" To save him 
the trouble of asking such a question, the writer told 
him what was wanted. " I presume," said the master, 
*' that you are of the Episcopal church." " No, Sir ; 
but I wish grace, mercy, and peace, to all of every deno- 
mination, who love our Lord Jesus Christ." He asked 
the. question, it afterwards appeared, because he and the 
owner of the property were of the number of those 
lately proscribed beings, praying Churchmen. He 
gave encouragement, and directed the preacher to the 
owner, a pleasant, pious man, who made the poor wel- 
come to the use of the room, and said his son should be 
sexton, if the applicant would find candles. 

On his way to this room, this evening, he passed 
along the still smoking ruins. A little beyond them, 
he overtook a woman of colour, w ho appeared to have 
been brought from Guinea, about eight years ago. 
Under one arm she carried five large brands, which 
had been quenched by the engines ; and under the 
other, a quarto Bible, which had lost one of its covers, 
and which, like herself, appeared much the worse, and 
in other respects, much the better, for wear. 



THE POOR WOMAN'S GIFT. 07 

" Poor woman/' said he, " have you been burued 
out too r 

" Yes, inassa, but blesset be God, I'm alive. " 
u You are very old to be turned out of house and 
home." 

" I well stricken in years, but God does it; and 
in dis world, 'tis one's turn to-day, and anudder's to- 
morrow/' 

" Have you saved nothing but your Bible 1" 
"Noting but one trunk o'things: but dis blesset 
book is wort more as all de rest. It make me feel 
better as all de rest. So long as I keep dis, I con- 
tent." 

With all the animation of Uncle Toby, when he said 
of the sick soldier, " he sha'n't die;" but without his 
oath, which made the accusing spirit blush as he gave it 
in, and shed a tear " to blot it out for ever/' the stranger 
said, putting his hand into his pocket, " you sha'n't be 
houseless." She replied, "Oa sister in the church has 
promised to take me in." Some good thing can come 
out of the noisy Methodist church of coloured people. 
The old saint was carrying her sticks to her sister's 
house, to cook necessary food, and her Bible to com- 
fort her heart. She received a pittance; and in return, 
gave the stranger of such things as she had, a blessing 
in the name of God. It was of mo r e value, than the 
praises of many mighty. Perhaps it rested on him ; for 
when he arrived at the place of worship, God gave him 
affections flowing like grateful streams. His own heart 
was refreshed. The room was crowded; and many who 
would, were unable to enter. * 

* 1 have since had the pleasure tj learn, that the discourse which 
ts4 then delivered, was not without fruit in the hearts of others, 

X 



08 A CHANGE FOR THE WORSE, 

May 24th. 

The fire has greatly increased the population in my 
dominions. This evening the doors were open into 
three wards in the Almshouse, so that many more than 
usual listened to my discourse. It was a solemn even- 
ing to many, and God grant the persons burned out of 
home, may derive some spiritual advantage from the 
affliction. 

May 26th. 

It is not unusual in this world for men to get out of 
one unpleasant situation into another. At the instiga- 
tion of several paupers, who could not find seats at our 
last meeting in the Almshouse, I consented to preach 
this morning in the school-room of the Institution. It 
is situated in the yard ; and 1 had entertained the hope, 
that I should escape the loathsome effluvia of old beds, 
cookery, and drugs; but I changed sides to keep the 
pain: for the room was full; the scorching sun could 
not be excluded from the windows ; and all the swine 
of the place, which are not few, surrounded the build- 
ing. 

Blind George made his appearance here in a new 
style. Hitherto he has made a doleful figure; for his 
long black hair was tumbled over his sightless face, his 
hempen jacket and trowsers were covered with grease, 
his hat was without top and brim, and his feet were 
bare. Designing that he should assist me at the Hospi- 
tal, I had thought it necessary to beg him a hat, from a 
young man, a blue broadcloth coat, of middle age, 
from W — S — , and to furnish him with pantaloons, a 



CHEERING PROSPECTS. 99 

vest, and shirts. His appearance now corresponds very 
well with the profession of clerk to the stated preacher 
to the poor. He sung more cheerfully than ever. The 
Irish woman, whose case I stated on the 21st of April, 
was present, with her babe in her arms, to give thanks 
for her recovery, and beg a catechism, that she might 
instruct her children. She manifests great humility, and 
deeply mourns for her misguided husband. 

In the afternoon, I led my clerk to the Hospital. He 
was a great acquisition in our social praise; and gave 
the patients great satisfaction. After public worship 
was over, many surrounded him, and he sung solemn 
songs for the space of an hour. The stolen country 
girl, A. W. attended my discourse with many tears. 
She lives beyond the expectation of all who know her 
case. One of her companions, P , who is now re- 
covering the second time, has for months regarded 
religious instructions with a lively interest ; and seemed 
to be quite delighted when George sung for her New- 
ton's " Good Physician," and " the sinner's Friend/' 

In consequence of the throng about the door of the 
school-room in the suburbs on the 19th hist, application 
was made for the use of the Irish Church on sabbath 
evenings, and, thanks to the liberality of the pastor 
and his people, the privilege sought was readily granted. 
To this place I led my clerk this evening, where he 
performed his part to the satisfaction of a very atten- 
tive audience. 



May SQth. 

On returning from the Churchman's lecture-room 
this evening, a very judicious woman informed the 



l 2 



100 CHRIST THE ONLY REFUGE-. 

rotter, that one of her acquaintance turned in to heax 
his discourse in the Irish church, who had never entered 
a church before but three times in her life. This person 
was a married woman, who has two children; but, great 
as her past negligence has been, there is now some 
hope, for she declares that she will hear, so long as he 
continues " to preach within her reach/' If one such 
heedless sinner is allured to Christ, he will be amply 
compensated for preaching regularly five times in eack 
week; which he has now engaged to do, so long as his 
health and other imperious circumstances will permit, 
Ma} God speed his own word. 



ts-t r* r*f-+ 



May 31s t- 

Again I have proclaimed salvation to the poor in 
the Almshouse, and conversed again with a pious wo- 
man, who has been confined to her bed twelve months 
with the rheumatism. To her, I trust my services in 
the glorious gospel of Christ have been sanctified. She 
has long been one of the most emaciated persons I have 
ever seen, and I was not surprised to hear her say, ■ For 
sometime the world has been nothing in my estimation: 
Christ is all. Might God be pleased to pardon my sins, 
and take me away, I should be thankful, but I have no 
reason to complain. He has afflicted me for good.'' 
She is destitute of near relatives. Her only child, a 
dutiful son, the last of her kindred, died suddenly in a 
fit, not loner before she entered the Almshouse, and 
with him fell every earthly confidence. God has been 
her support; Christ her refuge, That the prosperous 
should desire life is natural; and that one, who is friend- 
less, pennyless, weak, and full of pain, without hope oi 



CONSCIOUS SHAME. 101 

better temporal circumstances, but who has good hope 
through grace, should desire heaven, is equally natural. 
Grace becomes so much a part of the renewed man, 
that from a new nature, he very naturally desires to 
depart, and be present with Jesus, while that which is 
born of the flesh shudders at the thought of the coffin, 
the worm, the putrefaction of the grave. Many, who 
cannot delight in death, desire "what is beyond it, and, 
from enrapturing prospects of Canaan, launch into the 
dusky Jordan, 



June 2nd. 



Instead of delivering a regular discourse in the 
Hospital to-day, I visited eight wards, gave a short ex- 
hortation in each, and prayed with the patients. Miser- 
able and sinful as most of these beings are, they are not 
the most insensible of the human family. Hundreds 
appear every Sabbath on the public walks, who read the 
bible less, tnink less, and pray less, than the poor in my 

diocese. When I entered the ward of forlorn 

hope, and no male hearers were present to stimulate 
them to impudence, by way of defence against their 
own sensation of shame, they were as attentive as any 
audience in the city, and some could not restrain their 
tears, while others covered their faces, like persons who 
blush to look up to heaven. 



June 41 h. 



Some young females have frequented my lectures in 
the Almshouse, who belong to the city. Who they are 
I know not; but I have observed for some months past, 

I 3 



102 INCURABLE CASES, 

that the same faces are present. There is reason ta 
believe, that they are ashamed to appear in any other 
congregation than that of the poor. O ! that all the 
deluded, in some place or other, might listen to the 
doctrines of life. Some few poor women, of good 
character, who live without the walls of the Institution, 
from want of a more convenient place of public worship, 
or because they are too poor to purchase pews, have 
been permitted to hold a place with us on the sab- 
bath. 



*•**>.**+ *■*■****•■* 



June 8th. 



A short narration of my future visits may give a 
specimen of my past conduct, for I think, in defiance 
of censure, to pursue the even tenor of my way. Three 
patients I have particularly visited and prayed with to- 
day. One was too full of pain to make much reply to 
my inquiries ; the second said, what he did on the last 
sabbath, that he desired nothing so much as this life ; 
and the third, a very intelligent man, thought his case 
hopeless. Once he thought he knew the Lord, but now 
he apprehends that there remaineth no more sacrifice 
for his sins, because he has trodden under foot the blood 
of the Son of God. 

Four wards in the Almshouse have also been visited 
with instruction and prayer. Particularly I sought 
some, who had been sent from the Hospital, under the 
dreadful sentence of " incurable cases." I found two. 
One, M — B — , so soon as she saw me, called me by 
name, and put forth her withered hand, which one, who 
remembered that Christ washed the feet of his disciples, 
would not refuse. We held a long conversation in pre- 



A PROVERBIAL SAYING. 108 

sence of twenty, who are incurable from the same cause. 
M — B — , was born in England, is about thirty years of 
age, and has lived twelve years in notorious licentious- 
ness. Very few of this class of people have so long a 
course of iniquity ; for I should think that not one of a 
hundred of them survives her twenty-fifth year. This 
woman confesses that she has been well instructed, was 
of a good family, has resisted great light, and abused 
all divine mercies. For three months past, she thinks 
that the eyes of her mind have been open to behold the 
light of truth. Prayer is her delight. Her greatest 
present trouble, not excepting absolute confinement to 
her bed, arises from her belief that she does not feel so 
deeply her own vileness as she ought. She has no ex- 
pectation of recovery ; and she wishes that God may 
never permit her to arise again, unless it is to depart 
from iniquity. " Let me die," she says, " unless I 
should be kept from sin, and glorify God by my future 
life." Many similar things she said with great humility; 
and if she is a deceiver, she is an adept indeed. The 
other person, whom I found to be A — W — , was in an 
adjoining room. She lay in the middle of it, surrounded 
by about thirty as miserable as herself. She was glad 
to see me, and desired prayer. If any one cannot 
pray, it is a proverbial saying, " send him to sea:" 
but if any minister cannot occasionally preach with-- 
out reading his manuscript, "send him to the Alms- 
house." The sin and misery of this place are inde- 
scribable. 



June 9th. 
My brethren, who have polite congregations, find no- 



104 LIFE BUT A VAPOUR; 

difficulty in gaining assistance from transient ministers r 
and to-day I have succeeded for the fourth time in ob- 
taining " a labour of love." Of course I had to preach 
only twice on the present sabbath. The man whose 
chief desire was to live, retains his rational faculties at 
intervals only. He desired me to pray for him, and 
particularly that he might live, while he was sensible of 
the approach of death. Our reluctance to meet the 
king of terrors cannot retard his advancing steps. This 
man must die, and to-morrow will present him before 
the tribunal of God. 

J B— — , the person who yesterday thought his 

ease hopeless, does not doubt the truth of divine pro- 
mises, but their application to his case. This is a com- 
mon temptation in the Christian family. When I asked 
him what he would pray for, might be offer two petitions 
with the assurance of being heard, he said, H I would 
first pray to be received into the kingdom of heaven* 
and then, to be restored to health." 



June 10th. 



Early this morning, lie who clung to life was com- 
pelled to relinquish his hold. Even so expires a drown- 
ing man, while holding fast a straw. Who can render 
permanent a vapour, whose nature it is to appear for a 
little time, and then vanish] Who can protect what 
God has denominated "a moment]" Our days are as 
4i nothing" before him. 

To a multitude of these beings, who, like myself, are 
flitting to the tomb, I have this evening proclaimed 
Jesus Christ, the Saviour. In my presence were three 
persons, whom I have known to be bed-ridden ever 



THE DRUNKEN CARMAN. 105 

since I first visited the Almshouse. Two pious women 
were brought in the arms of some compassionate men. 
A fine little boy repeated a hymn, and having received 
a cent, thought it ample compensation for his trouble. 
Much good may be done at a small expence ; for I have 
procured many pious songs to be committed to memory, 
fit the same rate, which may prove restraints in youth, 
and consolation in old age. 

In one part of the room in which I preached, lay 
Mrs. M — , a German woman of seventy-eight years. 
Often have 1 conversed with her to my own edification* 
She is lingering on the verge of time, is full of humble 
confidence in Christ, and by faith looks steadfastly into 
the eternal world. 

After public worship w r as concluded, I visited twelve 
persons, who are old and full of pains. One was an 
Irishman, of excellent understanding, who is well ac- 
quainted with the doctrines of the Gospel, and ap- 
parently with Jesus crucified; but the most affecting 

object was one W 1, of fifty years of age, who is 

reduced to the borders of the grave by intemperance in 
the use of ardent spirits. The following dialogue 
ensued. 

" Have you formerly thought that you was a miserable 
sinner f 

" Yes: but now I know that 1 am vile. I have 
ruined myself. I have been, besides committing other 
sins, a drunken carman for nineteen years" 

" Do you know how you can be saved V 

u If I should live, I hope God will enable me to 
reform, and lead a better life." 

" But should you die to-night, what would become of 



206 AN AWFUL SCENE. 

your soul 1 Do you know of any way in which a rebel 
man can be justified, and saved from hell]" 

" No ; I should have no hope ; but upon my word 
and honour I want to pray God to be merciful to me a 
sinner.'* 

" No better prayer can be offered by any sinner, 
and while y#u live, I hope you will continue to 
pray." 

/ do keep praying, but I'm a poor sinner, and make 
a miserable hand of it. Do pray for me." 

I commenced praying, according to his request, and 
very unexpectedly to me, he repeated my words in an 
audible voice. Perceiving his attention, I uttered short 
sentences, and made a pause after each of them. Me 
followed me with great exertion and emotion. Some- 
times he faltered, then was silent, while a few petitions 
were offered, and again repeated my words, until his 
tongue would serve him no longer. The scene was aw- 
fully solemn, not only to me, but to a crowd of paupers, 
who nearly filled the room. Inexpressibly horrible is 
the death of a drunkard 1 

Descending from this room into the cellar,, I found 
Mr. B— — e, of sixy-two years, whose companion, the 
wife of his youth, died about a week since. From that 
hour he has rapidly declined. The vine, which had 
long shaded the old oak, was torn away, and the scorch- 
ing sun has withered its branches. The mouldering 
trunk will fall soon. 

The man could not speak to me, but signified by 
expressive gesticulation that he desired prayers. Once 
or twice he attempted to repeat the words of my adr 
dress;, but I could only distinguish, in a whisper, a part 



FALSE CONFIDENCE, 10? 

of the publican's petition, which almost every dying 
sinner, who feels his guilt at all, finds appropriate to his 
condition. 

From him I turned to a woman, who has been three 
months in the same helpless situation. She informed 
me that she read her prayers every day, and should it 
please God to take her out of the world, she should be 
very thankful for his kindness. 

It is not a pious feeling in myself, I must acknow- 
ledge, which makes me shrink back from disagreeable 
duties, and desire, in a moment of gloom, to depart 
from a world in which I have found abundant sin, dis- 
appointment, and misery; but whether this poor wo- 
man's resignation is of the right kind or not, I will not 
pretend to determine. 



*sr*^rryrrs'rf + 



June 11th. 

To-day, W — t and B — e, have appeared before 
God. 

This afternoon I have visited two wards of the Hos- 
pital, in which I gave a general exhortation to all 
present, besides particularly conversing with three 
patients. 

j b will not be comforted. He has been in 

the habit of reposing confidence in his past experience 
of the^love of God, wrought within him, and cannot be 
convinced that it is safe to trust himself anew to Christ 
for pardon and salvation. Those who have not received 
lucid instructions upon the doctrine of justification^ 
who have not been taught a thousand times, that the 
sole ground' of their salvation is without them, are liable 
to perpetual disquiet. Their feelings change; they 
hope for salvation, because of pious feelings ; and why 



108 AN INSTRUCTIVE FABLE. 

should not their hope of heaven fluctuate in the twink- 
ling of an eye? 

This unhappy man has been ignorantly attempting to 
make his imperfect personal righteousness answer that 
purpose for which the righteousness of Christ alone 
is sufficient. No sinner ever ought to perform a 
commanded duty, or desire the lively exercise of any 
Christian grace, with the expectation or design of secur- 
ing heaven, even in part, by his obedience. He must 
be pious from some other motive, or he will dishonour 
the mediatorial work of Jesus Christ. 

J B continues to spit blood, and must soon 

die. He knows it too, and discovered that solicitude 
which becomes a dying man. I repeated to him New- 
ton's fable of " the spider and the toad/' to convince 
him in a familiar way, that the sinner must continue to 
apply to Christ for pardon and consolation, with that 
repentance which is unto life, but when I came to that 
part which speaks of the removal of the healing plant, 
and the death of the toad, from the sting of the spider* 
he exclaimed, "and that will be my case!" It was in 
^ain I told him, 

" 'Tis here tbe happy difference lies, 

44 My Saviour reigns above the skies, 

44 Yet to my soul is always near} 

44 For he is God and every where. 

" His blood a sovereign balm is found 

•* For every grief and every wound ; 

44 And sooner all the hills shall flee 

44 And hide themselves beneath the sea ; 

44 Or ocean, starting from its bed, 

*' Rush o'er the cloud-top mountain's head 5 

u The sun, exhausted of its light, 

44 Become the source of endless night; 

44 And ruin spread from pole to pole, 

44 Than Jesus fail the tempted soul," 



INTERESTING CONVERSATION. 109 

One man, C— O — , with whom I have several times 
conversed, is a native of Connecticut. Until to-day ? he 
has been attentive to what I said, but quite reserved. 
This afternoon, he introduced a long dialogue, -by say- 
ing, " that men could not have religion by merely say- 
ing, God be merciful to me, a sinner." 

"True," I replied, " for even a parrot may be taught 
to repeat those words; but no man ever prayed for 
mercy, from faith in the Saviour of sinners, who was 
finally lost It is one thing to use the form of prayer, 
and quite another thing to pray." 

" But the thing is," he rejoined, " to know that we 
really have that faith, and are not deceived." The 
question was proposed, " Do you doubt of the truth of 
the Bible V 

He assured me that he did not; but thought it very 
difficult for any one to know that he possessed true 
religion. He was "brought up" in the family of the 
late Rev. Mr. Little, of his native place, " to a religious 
life," and thought, until lately, that he had "a good 
deal of religion ;" but now he doubted whether he had 
^ever possessed any. Thirteen years ago he came to this 
-city to live, and for the last four years had been with 
three of his children, who are settled in the southern 
part of our country. In all the places where he sojourned 
south of Pittsburgh, and particularly in New-Orleans, 
lie could find very little religion. On the sabbath, the 
people would race horses and gamble. Most of the 
people whom he saw were Deists or Atheists. 

"Well, did it not grieve you to be without religious 
society, and to see people live so wickedly ?" - 

It did, for almost three years; but, during the last 
year % he feared that he had been as bad as any of them. 

K 



110 GROUND OF A SINNER'S HOPE. 

By degrees his faith was unhinged, and he learned the 
wicked ways of the people with whom he lived. Now 
he desired truly to bewail his sins. He found that he 
must start anew, or perish ; for he could take no pleasure 
in any thing that was past. IS^ow all his former know- 
ledge and experience of vital piety, afforded him no 
ground of hope. 

"It never s*Iiould be the ground of a sinner's hope. 
The Lord Jesus Christ is the only foundation for 
Christian hope. 

" Too many have supposed, that they should be 
saved, because of some good work performed in them 
by the Holy Spirit. Sanctification is an evidence of 
such vital union, by faith, to the Lord Jesus Christ, and 
ensures salvation; but it is in no case the reason why 
we are united to the Redeemer, and justified through 
Ills blood; for then it must have influence before its 
existence, and supplant the meritorious services of the 
Saviour/' 

It was stated to the sick man, that his late defection 
was calculated to make him seriously question th» 
genuineness of his former faith ; for nothing but habitual 
batred of sin, sorrow for it, and struggles against it, 
can afford continued evidence of saving faith. That 
belief of the truth, which is not followed by contrition, 
godly fear, and diligence in the performance of religious 
duties, is vain. 

The stated preacher has invariably insisted on the 
necessity of repentance, as well as faith, in all his inter- 
course with the poor of his charge ; for although faith 
bas the precedence among the Christian graces, yet no 
one of them is ever found alone. That man, who 
savingly believes the testimony of God, concerning 



PRAYliR FOR A BACKSLIDEIi. ' 111 

sinners and the Saviour, will bate iniquity, and tur& 
from it, while he works not for the purpose of justify- 
ing himself, " but believeth on him that justiiieth the 
ungodly." 

One circumstance appeared very favourable. When 
any syllable reminded him of his religious education, 
he appeared to be deeply affected; and when he learned 
that 1 was acquainted with the inhabitants of his native 
town, he asked if several of his early acquaintance had 
become persons of religious character. When he was 
answered in the affirmative, concerning many of them, 
it appeared to afford him great pleasure. 

For such a person every believer would pray, " O 
Lord, if he ever knew thee, return to him in tender 
mercy : if not, now give him to know Jesus, which is 
life eternal; and may his future obedience evince to 
himself and others the sincerity of his faith, the trans* 
forming efficacy of the love of Christ." 



June 14th. 



This afternoon I have visited six wards of the Hospi- 
tal. In all, the patients were attentive ; and many of 
them thanked me, not only with words, but tears. J — 
B — , the desponding man, is disposed to pray; but 
retains nearly the same dejection of spirits. 

In one of the wards of coloured people I had a long 
conversation with J — J — , who is thirty years of age, 
according to the account of his master ; but his grey 
beard indicates him to be at least fifty. 

He thinks that he has been much deceived, but can- 
not ascertain his years. He had heard people say, that 

K2 



11*2 DOCTRINE OF SUBSTITUTION STATED. 

all were sinners ; and he knew that he had done wron^i 
but he did not know of any way in which a sinner could 
be saved. 

" Has no one ever instructed you in religion !* 

He bad heard people say that men could be saved, 
but he could not think how. This led me to preach 
Christ to him; and since he had been a sailor, to ex- 
plain familiarly the doctrine of substitution. I asked if 
he had ever seen one man tied up to the shrouds for 
another] " That I have seen ; and known him flogged 
too!" 
b " Yet it was by his own consent/' 

" O yes, or it would have been wrong.'* 

" But after the substitute was chastised, it would have 
been wrong to punish, with the same stripes, the man 
whom he represented. n 

All this, he said, he could understand. 

" Now you must know, that God sent his only Son, 
by that Son's consent, to take the sinner's place, and be 
made a curse, bearing the chastisement of his peace : 
so that the sinner who believes in Christ, taking him for 
his Saviour, cannot be condemned/' 

"It stands to reaso?i then," said the black man, 
*' that if believers sin ever so much, they will not 
he punished for it, because Christ was punished in 
their place" 

" That is true; but do you thiuk that any one whc 
trusts in Christ for salvation from sin, would consent te 
sin, because Jesus had suffered death for him?" He 
thought "that would not stand to reason." 

Then I told him the consequence of knowing the 
way of life, only to reject it. 

He confessed, that he had always been very wicked, 



MUCH SIN BRINGS MUCH MISERY. 113 

and asserted that no one had ever " taught him about 
religion/' but now he thought that he should " attend to 
it with his might ; for such a thing ought to be stuck 
to, all ones life." 

Other interesting conversations I had, which want 
of time prevents me from relating. God bless his 
word. 

In the evening I preached in the Almshouse, to a 
crowded audience, and then visited a Mr. L — — -se, 
aged seventy-nine years, who for some time has been an 
inhabitant of this place, through the imbecility of age. 
He has been a regular attendant on public worship, and 
appears to have Scriptural views. Soon he will leave 
his miserable residence here below, and perhaps ex- 
change it for one eteraal in the heavens. 



June 16th: 



After public worship in the Almshouse, I visited 
four wards, gave an exhortation in each, and prayed 
with the sick in three of them. My gracious God, 
what a scene of misery do thine eyes behold! How 
great must be the wickedness of a fallen world, which 
the Heavenly Father chastises with so much 
wretchedness, as even I discern ! First, I went to see 

old Mr. L se, who is yet alive, but who will spend 

no more sabbaths on earth. In the bed next to hini^ 
directly before my face, lay the corpse of a younger 
man than himself, who was lately from Philadelphia, 
and who yesterday walked out into the city. It was a 
solemn scene. The old man could not speak : but 
made me understand that he desired to unite in prayer. 
He has ever been a punctual attendant on the Dutch 
K 3 



114 VISITS TO SICK FEMALES. 

church; and since he has resided in this place, has 
loved the gates of Zion. Beside him stood an aged 
friend, looking upon him with great tenderness, who 
has long been his companion in poverty, to whom the 
dying mad gave his hand, and would have said, 
" Brother in adversity, adieu ;" but his tongue refused 
to move. 

From this abode of the living, the dying, and the 
dead, I went into the ward of destitute, sick, and 
rejected females. Here the outcasts, full of sores, meet 
together : and not fewer persons than thirty I saw, who 
are literallv half consumed. I addressed the stolen 
country girl, who bears the name of A — W — . Whether 
this is her real name or not, I cannot say, for on her 
left arm I saw, in India ink, the initials J. + C. and 
under them, the letters A. W. which have apparently 
been made since the first. She told me that she could 
not expect to recover; and in God's name I exhorted 
her; but because she is too sad, or too hardened to 
weep, she wept not. Still I hope from her attention to 
divine truth, and apparent gratitude to the messengers 
of pardon, that all her convictions were not washed 
away by her floods of tears in the Hospital. 

Having given a general invitation to the Gospel feast, 
and offered prayers in this room, I visited M — B. She 
told me, that she did not feel her sins to be a heavy 
burden upon her, weighing her down into hell, as she 
did a few months ago; because she believed in Christ, 
and hoped he would pardon her; while at the same time 
she knew, that her crimes were as many, as odious, and 
as deserving of damnation, as they formerly were. While 
I was conversing with this outcast female, at my back 
lay a young girl, of round features, of dark complexion. 






AN UNEXPECTED INTERVIEW. 115 

of eighteen years, who at this early period is brought to 
the borders of an untimely grave. When I asked M— 
if I should pray with them, this poor thing, who had 
been listening, cried out with great earnestness, " O do! 
do, Sir!" After prayer, I turned my attention to her; 
and her cheeks w 7 ere of scarlet ; her lips were pale ; 
she trembled; but closed her eyes as in the sleep of 
death, and could not be persuaded to answer a word. 

I went into one of the Hospital rooms, where Ivlrs. 
B — , the nurse, is a mother to the sick ; and where I 
preached on Monday evening last. Here 1 saw one, 
whom I never expected to see in this grand charnel- 
house of the city. She was a tall, meagre person, 
whose countenance and manner told me that she had 
seen better days. So soon as she perceived me, she 
stretched out both hands, and called to me, with the 
overflow ing of tearful joy. 

" How came you here?" was the first question which 
escaped from my lips. " Do your friends know that 
you are in this house ] Where is your sister V 

My questions were soon answered, l( My kind 
Master has sent me here. I did not like to come ; 
but somchozc he wonderful!}/ supported me. My sister 
is still living where you saw her, and trying to sup- 
port herself." 

u So your sister still lives in the cellar ; but do those 
ladies who assisted you last winter know where you 
are P 

They were ignorant, she said, of her present situation; 
and they had helped her so long, that she was willing 
they should remain ignorant. 

" My blessed Saviour/' said the weeping shadow,, 
whose consumption outlives common patience, " is with 



116 WAITING IN HOPE. 

me here ; and it comforted me to think, that I could see 
you oftener, and hear you preach, which I could not do 
where I lived : so that I bless my Lord that he spares 
me, that he does not banish me. O how good is Jesus 
to poor sinners!" My heart was supported by the 
manifestation of such resignation ; and I still thought it 
true, that he who casts his bread upon the waters, shall, 
after many days, receive it again ; for this old woman, 
lingering in the slow consumption, has probably been 
assisted for as many months, as she protected the sick 
soldier weeks. At any rate, God gives her in recom- 
pense the bread of life. But, gracious God, leave me 
not to the charity of the world : or be pleased to be- 
stow such grace as will support me under all circum- 
stances. When active usefulness shall cease, and when 
a lesson shall no longer be taught by patience in suffer- 
ing, be pleased to take me from time. O take me to 
thyself! 

Leaving this good woman, I addressed the old German 
lady, beside whom I preached on the 10th instant. At 
first she thought me the attending physician, but so 
soon as I spoke to her of Christ, " O my dear friend," 
she said, " you love Jesus, and you love my soul/' I 
perceived that she was drawing near the close of this 
life, and expressed my persuasion that she would soon 
be gone. " O yes, Sir, I be glad, should my blessed 
Lord, come soon and fetch me home : but while I can, 
I must eat and drink, and not lay hands on myself. 
But I hope he'll come scon, and then I shall go to my 
fathers, and mothers, and brothers, and sisters." The 
writer asked if she spake of her relatives. 

She replied, "O! all of them in heaven are my 
friends and relatives. I should be glad to be there ; 



CHEAP WAY OF DOING GOOD. 117 

kut 1 am in the flesh still, and have not put on the 
perfect robe, pure and white. But I sl^ll wear it by 
and by." 

When such a person spake, it was meet that I should 
be silent. Indeed, I listened with great delight. 

It may not be improper to add, that a very little 
girl repeated a long hymn, and obtained a cent, which 
is the established pecuniary premium for such exercises. 

An old Scotch woman has repeatedly amused me, 
while she taught me the important lesson of doing much 
good at a little expense. She comes to the Almshouse 
with a bundle of tracts ; the children flock around her, 
and she says to one, " Dear child, do you want to buy 
a book !" 

" I ha'n't got no money/' cries the boy. 

"But would you give me too cents for this little 
book, if you had them !* 

"That I would." 

" Well, then, if you will learn five questions and 
answers, I will give you one cent ; and when you have 
learned five more, I will give you another cent ; which 
will buy the book." 

The lad consents ; she calls again to hear him repeat 
his lesson ; and iu this manner she has sold a cheap 
copy of the catechism to very many of the poor chil- 
dren. This same pious woman I have often found 
reading some religious book to a circle of old women, 
who were much gratified by her enunciation in that 
broad dialect, which was natural to them, but which I 
could scarcely understand. 

In the afternoon I preached in the Hospital, and then 
visited five wards. 

Poor J— B — died to-day in despair. 



113 PENITENCE OF AN OLD MAN. 

One man, "who was partially blind, a sailor, followed 
me from roon\to room, until, in the last, I turned my 
attention particularly to him ; but even then he remain- 
ed in solemn silence. 

In the last ward which I visited, I found one J — R — , 
a^ed fiftv-four vears, who had been attending mv lee- 
lures, and who appeared to be deeply impressed. I 
found him, as I found many in this well-regulated Insti- 
tution, reading the Bible. After I had conversed with 
two or three of his companions, and was turning away, 
he said to me, " I believe what you say ; I feel, and I 
have long felt, that I am a poor sinner. Once I called 
myself a Christian, but I have behaved worse than a 
Turk." 

" It gives me pleasure," I said, " to hear you confess 
yor sins, and I hope you do it from the heart. Are you 
not ashamed to say before these persons, who may laugh 
at you for your superstition, that you believe the Gos- 
pefr 

46 No Sir, for whosoever believeth on him shall not 
be ashamed. If it was not for that I should sink into 
despair, for I have been examining, and find I have 
Iroken every commandment but one ; for I do not think 
I have committed murder" 

" But have you not been angry without a cause, and 
does not unreasonable anger produce every iustance of 
murder which actually exists V* 

" I have broken that commandment in that sense, but 
I never really wished to kill any man/' 

" Well, do you know how a sinner can be saved V y 
He had the Bible open at the 10th chapter cf Romans, 
and said, " / believe all this book, and every word of 
this chapter^ and particularly the ninth verse" Ke 



CHARITY EXPLAINED* lit 

pointed me to the place, and I read, "If thou shaft 
confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt be- 
lieve in thy heart that God raised him from the dead, 
thou shalt be saved." " This, however/' resumed he, 
" troubles me ; the scriptures say that faith without 
charity is nothing ; and I have always been a poor man, 
that could not have charity/' This he really said with 
great grief, but when I told him that the Greek word 
rendered charity, really signifies love, or a disposition 
to do good as we have opportunity, bis difficulty vanish- 
ed. This fully convinced me that judicious criticism is 
really of great importance, even for the common hearer. 
The words of a dead language, however, need not be 
quoted to those who do not understand them, 

j — R — arose and walked the room, saying with great 
emotion, " O if I could mourn for my sins as I ought, 
and shed fountains of tears, it would ease me ; but my 
heart is hai*d" 

" If you could weep as much as you desire, it would 
be suitable, but it would be no reason why God should 
accept you." 

« True Sir, I should merit nothing, if I should he 
in agony all the rest of my life; but I feel that I ought 
to mourn." 

In this manner he mourned that he could not mourn ; 
but, alas ! he has a dominant passion ! He was warned 
of his danger, and exhorted to bring forth such fruits 
as are becoming the profession of repentance. 



June 18fA. 
This evening I preached in the Almshouse, heard 
two children repeat hymns, visited old Mr, L — se> and 



120 CONFESSION OF A SAILOR. 

received from one of the poor, helpless women, a bunch 
of roses, which was all that she could give m testimony 
of her gratitude. To have rejected it would have been 
unkind indeed. During service, which was in the blind 
room, a blind methodist preacher offered one of the 
prayers. His language was proper, and I trust his heart 
sincere, but I lamented that he was so vociferous as 
really to pain my auditory nerves. Why cannot these 
good people use the natural language of fervour and 
respect, without unnatural vociferation ? Is their God 
afar off? Or is he deaf? Or is he moved by such ex- 
cessive noise as indicates almost every thing but re= 
spect ? 



June 19th. 



To-day I have visited seven wards in the Hospital. 
Some with eager looks followed me from room to room, 
that they might hear of Jesus, crucified for the sins of 
men. 

C — O — says that when he is full of pain, he desires 
to die for two reasons ; first, from a desire to be free 
from pain, and secondly, that such a poor sinner as he 
is, will never be better prepared. 

With J — R — I conversed again. Taking of! his 
hat, and looking up with the deepest reverence, he 
said, " I declare Sir, in the presence of God, who I 
think hears me, that I think I am the vilest sinner in 
this Hospital." 

This R — has been a sailor for about forty yecrf ; 
and says that he never took to reading the Bible much 
until within a few months. His progress in the kttoW- 
ledge of the scriptures is certainly wonderful. 



CONFESSION AND PARDON. 121 

With one Wm. H — n, who is far gone in the con- 
sumption, I have often conversed, and particularly to- 
day. His convictions appear to be of the right kind. 
He waits and even hopes for death. When about to 
leave the place where he lies, I observed a young sailor, 
who was raising blood profusely, and who was in tears. 
Before to-day I had not addressed him individually, 
but now I found him anxious about the salvation of his 
soul. He tells me that his attention was first excited 
the other day, by my conversing and praying with 
II — n. Now the young man feels that he is a sinner, 
and bewails it bitterly. In short, I have considerable 
hope concerning five or six, who are now patients in 
this place. But, alas! the greater part will hear from 
respect to me, who care not a rush for Christ. 

With a Roman Catholic patient I reasoned. He was 
ready to confess his sins, he said ; and demanded of me 
'"what follows?' " If you truly and humbly confess 
your sins to God, pardon follows, as God's free gift J' 
" I confess my sins to my priest/' said he, "and when 
I confess to him I confess to God/' 

This is a Catholic of more than ordinary information; 
but the other day some sin burthened his conscience, 
and he would neither eat, nor obey the prescription of 
the physicians, until his confessor came to disburthen 
his guilty soul. 

The writer discoursed also with one Captain Jarvis, 
who has experienced many reverses of fortune, as the 
world is pleased to say ; but who, two years ago, after 
he was seventy years of age, was found by Jesus Christ. 
He converses very sensibly ; is ready to live or to die, 
and manifests an unshaken confidence in the truth of 
God. 

L 



122 AN OPEN REPULSE. 

" I know/' said he, "that I am an old sinner; but 
God will not lie. He says he will pardon and accept 
me in Jesus Christ, and I am sure he will, because he 
says so. The words of God are all faithful. O what 
a mercy is it, that he did not let me die before he 
brought me to believe in him ; and while I was in my 
sius !" 



//A/^#/^^//# 



June 21st. 



This morning I have visited four wards of the Hos- 
pital, and couid, had I time, relate much interesting 
conversation. Captain Jarvis talks, and appears to fee), 
like a saint. The Roman Catholic whom I saw on 
Wednesday, appeared to be pleased with the informa- 
tion, that he might confess his sins to God in any place ; 
but in another room I said to the dying H — n, "Con- 
tinue to confess your sins to God, for none can forgive 
sins but God alone ;" and did not know that a Catholic 
heard me, I turned, however, to a sick man, and asked 
how long he had been aiilicted. He answered, "four 
months" 

"Well, I hope your sickness will be sanctified to 
you/' 

" Sir," said the sick man, roughly, " when I want 
a priest I^will send for one. We are of different reli- 
gions." 

This is the first open repulse that I ever received 
from any one of the patients. I assured him, that I 
claimed no right to teach him, and had in no case im- 
posed my services upon any one, contrary to his incli- 
nation ; but I desired him to remember, that there is 



THE FAREWELL SERMON, 12S 

but one religion is heaven, and but one religion that 
leads to heaven, which consists in repentance toward 
God, and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. With these 
words I left him ; but he could not help railing at me, 
for saying to another, without a thought of hurting the 
feelings of any one, " that all the men on earth cannot 
forgive a single sin," 



June 22nd. 



To-day Captain Jarvis went home. The Catholic 
who was well disposed, and who thought yesterday 
that he was recovering, has likewise departed this life, 
Within twenty-four hours, four persons have died in 
the Hospital. 

This evening I preached in the Almshouse in the 
hearing of the soldier's friend, and many other afflicted 
persons. 



June 23rd. 

Many of the inhabitants of the Almshouse followed 
their preacher to the Hospital and Irish Church, to- 
day, that they might hear, and as it were treasure up a 
store against the time of his temporary absence, which 
has been announced to them. At both places of wor- 
ship George sung as he has invariably done, since he 
commenced his extensive clerkship. This blind man 
has been of great service to many ; and it gives him 
satisfaction to be cleanly in apparel one day out of 
seven, and to change occasionally the scene of his^ be- 



nighted life. 



L 2 



X24 VACATION NECESSARY FOR HEALTH, 

After the public worship is concluded in the Hospi- 
tal, he remains there, and sings in different wards, un- 
til evening. The nurses and patients treat him with 
great attention, and seemed pleased to give him a por- 
tion of their good things. They ought, truly, to com- 
municate to him of their food, for one says, " George, 
will you sing this hymn?" and then another pleads, 
that he would go to the couch of another dying patient, 
and sing a second, third, or fourth sacred song. "The 
labourer is worthy of his hire." 

In this manner he performs his part in the consola- 
tion of the sick; and not unfrequently arrests the atten- 
tion of those who lightly esteem the word of God. 

After I have visited the Hospital once more, I deem 
a vacation necessary for my health. To depart for a 
season is a matter of reluctance, because many will 
probably die without instruction. When one sick man 
is addressed, many listen ; and in the course of a few 
davs, not unfrequently some one of them desires " that 
minister" to be called who lately visited his companions. 
In this manner new applicants for spiritual treasures 
are procured, who would otherwise, most commonly* 
die in stupidity. 

Even so died, annually, not less than two hundred 
persons in these two Institutions, before there was any 
establishment of a stated ministry for their benefit. 

" But are our efforts only to be directed to the hea- 
then? Do they alone need our aid ? From different 
parts of our City cries reach us in the language of the 
man of Macedonia, 'Come over and help us.' They 
are the cries of our Christian brethren, who once like 
\ou enjoyed the benefits of a gospel ministry, but iu 
course of providence have been deprived of thesu 



6 



OBLIGATIONS OF CHRISTIANS. 125 

They feel their wants the more sensibly, because they 
know from past experience the value of divine ordi- 
nances. Their case is painful ; their necessities ur- 
gent/'* 

" Is there a Christian here, who knows how to do 
good unto all, but especially unto them that are of the 
household of faith ? Among these afflicted, who are 
sinking under their infirmities, and have not where 
to lay their heads, are some to whom the celestials 
minister, and who are fellow-heirs icith Christ in 
glory. I state the facts : I use no arguments : I leave 
the result with your consciences, your hearts, and your 
God.'t 

Were Christians solicitous as they should be to evince 
their faith to the world by their works, were they mind- 
ful of their high destination, or would they constantly 
remember that there is but a step between them and 
death, there would be no want of ministers of the gos- 
pel, or any lack of a suitable support for them. Men 
and money enough can be found for all other purposes 
beside religion. When was it difficult to find men, who 
would teach and bear rule in social and civil matters ? 
Let us strive to act for eternity under this impression, 
that it is appointed unto all men once to die, and after 
the dissolution of soul and body, to appear before the 
judgment seat of Christ. 

M O death, thou king of terrors ! dreadful name I 

M Nor rev'rend hoary age, cor blooming yov.th, 

** Nor boasted strength, escape thy fatal dart. 

" Not the persuasive power of beauty's charm?, 



* Dr. Romeyir s Sermon before the Committee cf Mission?, 
i Dr. Mason' s Sermon on Living Faith. 
L 3 



126 A WELCOME RETURN. 

" Nor the soft moving tears of innocence, 
" Can stay thy hand : nor can the miser's gold* 
u Nor all the treasures of the eastern shore, 
{i Buy one short moment of relentless Death.'' 

Mrs, Steele* 

<+* ****.** ****■ 

Lord's Day, July 28th. 

On Thursday last I returned to this city, after hav- 
ing been absent four sabbaths, and on Friday visited 
b-oth the institutions in which I labour. 

Were a representation of the lively joy which was 
manifested on this occasion to be attempted, I should 
undoubtedly be thought proud of the esteem of the 
poor. It may be permitted to me, however, to state* 
that I could not wish a more welcome reception. 

In the morning of this day I preached in the Alms- 
house to many ; and should have addressed more, but 
they could not gain admission to the room. 

In the afternoon, some of the paupers who desired 
to attend public worship twice on the sabbath, followed 
their preacher to the Hospital. Ke stood in the long 
gallery, between two rooms, and had more hearers than 
could be conveniently seated. It is not amiss for the 
well, sometimes to stand and hear a discourse, but it 
will not favour the restoration of the sick. The super- 
intendent wisely decided, that in future, no persons 
shall be admitted from the Almshouse excepting the 
blind clerk and his leader. 

An English blood was one of the hearers in the Hos.- 
pitaL who was brought in to have a broken knee made 
^kole. lie has a fine countenance, and one who was 



NARRATIVE OF AN ENGLISH BUCK, T2¥ 

ignorant of his history would certainly be prepossessed 
in his favour. Such an eye as he possesses does not 
indicate a bad temper. 

But he came to this country almost destitute of pecu- 
niary resources, and completely devoid of principle. 
He was soon after followed by a young lady, to whom 
lie had been long engaged, and who was so unfortunate 
as to love him. Un worthiness is often discovered when 
the heart says, " It is too late!" and when the develope- 
ment of character presents a feeble obstruction to the 
indulgence of that passion which has become dominant 
in the soul. This young woman must have imagined 
her pretended lover worthy, when she first indulged a 
partiality for him ; and perhaps she thought that his, 
face could not be the index of dishonourable charac- 
ter. 

When she arrived in America, (according to precon- 
cert between them, I believe) she had property and he 
had none; and being disposed to secure a little fortune, 
with little trouble, he was united to her in the solemn 
bands of wedlock, by a Reverend gentleman, who can 
attest the fact, 

It might have been expected, that from this day, ac- 
cording to covenant, they should be no longer twain 
but one. This was not the case ; for the young man 
having come into possession of her property, before 
the night of the day of their marriage, sailed on a 
mercantile expedition to one of the southern islands, 
where he contrived to squander the four or five thou- 
sand dollars, which lie had obtained by a sort of connu- 
bial swiadling. 

After some time he returned to this city, aad avoided 



128 A BUCK'S HONOUR. 

seeing the woman whom he had deeply injured. He 
boarded in a respectable family, and sought to gain the 
affections of another young lady, whom he persuaded 
himself that he loved to desperation. 

The rumour, that Mr. was already married, 

came to the ears of the father of the female whom he 
sought, and in consequence of this the young man was 
banished from the house. The fact of his union to the 
woman who claimed him for her husband, he solemnly 
denied; but at this critical juncture he was arrested in 
the public streets by a civil officer, who would have led 
him to the proper abode of such a cockney. The pri- 
soner requested that he might be permitted to ride to 
Bridewell, because he was a gentleman: and assured 
the man in authority, that if he would relinquish his 
hold of the bridle, there should be no escape, no resis- 
tance. Repeatedly the blood promised, by all that was 
sacred, to ride with his keeper peaceably to the place 
of destination. Behold, now, the value of this excla- 
mation, " upon my sacred word and honour!" So soon 
as the officer believed the assertion, the person whom 
he trusted, put spurs and whip to his horse, that he 
might escape. Away he fled like John Gilpin; and the 
officer followed hard after him ; but the way of trans- 
gressors is hard ; for in full career through Broadway, 
the horse of the fugitive dashed his rider against a cart, 
and fractured his leg. By this event he was made a 
prisoner again; and now is not only a patient but a 
prisoner in the Hospital. What is to be the issue I 
know not; but I could wish that he might return to his 
senses, and prove himself a faithful husband to her 
who is his lawfully wedded wife. 



IMPORTANCE OF PASTORAL VISITS. 129 

It is said, that she still tenderly regards him, and 
would gladly pardon all his misconduct. Something 
within him should say, 

M Can that soft fabric stem affliction's tide ? 
M Canst thou, fair emblem of exalted truth, 
" To sorrow doom the summer of thy youth j 
" And I perfidious! all that sweetness see 
M Consigned to lasting misery for me ?" 

Falconer, 



August 1st* 

Eight wards of the Hospital have beeii visited to- 
day, in such a parochial way, as I suppose all faithful 
pastors visit the families of their congregations. My 
own motives I shall not presume to state, for my readers 
would be dependent on the testimony of one person 
concerning himself; but this may be asserted, and I 
trust accredited, that more apparent good has resulted 
from personal conversations, than from public discourses. 
These should never be separated. A popular sermon 
resembles a note of hand ; and the private application 
which should follow is like the endorsement, which 
often proves the most important part of the instrument. 
An old pastor, of my acquaintance, has been in the 
habit of saying to young ministers, " remember to 
back your discourses well, in your intercourse with 
your people." 

When a few personal questions are proposed to a 
patient, he feels like that man, who was the only auditor 
of a clergyman on a rainy sabbath, that the doctrine 
must be intended for himself, and not for others. The 
circumstance that he was the only hearer so powerfully 



139 THE J3CKCAS SOCIETY. 

arrested his attention, that the sermon, which he then 
heard, was sanctified to his conviction of sin, and con- 
version to God. 

In one of the wards, an aged woman, whom all 
denominate " grandmother," was yet alive, while a 
sweet little child, which the Almoners of the Dorcas 
Society found half starved in a garret, clothed, and 
placed in the Hospital, was dead. This Society is of 
modern origin; and has already done much good. The 
members of it deserve an honourable record of this fact, 
that they make all the garments which they distribute 
with their own hands. One of the company reads 
some entertaining book, while all tke other members ply 
the needle. From unfeigned respect to the ladies of 
this charity, the writer begs their acceptance of the 
following 

HYMN* 

The heavens declare Jehovah's praise, 

Let earth her incense yield, 
For Pie who clothes the son with ray?. 

With verdure clothes the field. 

In gay attire the lilies stand, 

With ev'ry humble flow'r, 
To own their drapery from his hand 

Who mingles love with pow'r. 

lie gives each bird a plumy dress 

To shield it from the storm ; 
And to preclude a hare's distress, 

A vestment soft, and warm. 

* Several previous parts of this journal were published in the 
[American] Christian's Magazine, and these lines were, by the 
politeness of Mr. Lewis, at a later date, inserted in " the Com- 
mercial Advertiser." 



HYMN FOR THE DORCAS SOCIETY. 131 

From Heav'n's high wardrobe ev'ry lamb 

"With fleecy wool is drest, 
And ev'ry lion with his dam 

Receives a sackcloth vest. 

The tender tribes are finest clad, 

And coarser clad the bold ; 
But Heaven permits no tigers mad 

To perish with the cold. 

When the first pair of human race 

Knew exigence by sin, 
A sacrifice prefigur'd grace, 

And coats were made of skin. 

He makes the flaxen herbage grow, 

He bids the silk-worm spin, 
And cotton thrive, in Summer's glow, 

To yield us garments thin. 

In spring, their fleece the flocks divide 

"With ev'ry northern clan, 
To warm mankind, and humble pride 

In ev'ry fallen man. 

To imitate her Maker's love 

Good Dorcas was intent, 
And when ascending far above 

A pattern downward sent, 

Some females found it, and have made 

Like vestments for the poor, 
The naked poor of ev'ry grade, 

The white child, and the moor. 

In robes of heaven- wrought righteousness 

May ev'ry Dorcas shine, 
And bless'd by others, Jesus bless, 

For garments all divine. 

Almost every face in the ward of courtesans was new 
to me; but I found one sad young thing, called Caroline, 



132 ADDRESS TO AN ENGLISHMAN* 

reading the Bible, and commended her conduct in 
searching the scriptures. " I think it, Sir," she replied, 
" the best of books, while I am confident that I have 
violated all its principles/' 

In another ward, I approached the bed of the young 
Englishman, and conversed with a sick man, whose wife 
supported her husband's head on the next couch. What 
I said to this person was as much designed for the 
Englishman as himself; but I avoided the appearance 
of knowing any thing about the latter. When I was 
turning away, the apparently neglected young man 
said, " We all feel indebted to you, Sir, for your atten- 
tions, and I hope we shall profit from them." His 
words were uttered in a soft tone, and with a pleasingly 
pensive countenance. 

Hastily turning around to him, and fixing my eyes 
firmly on him, with mingled emotions, I said, " It would 
give me great delight to be of service to you all. I am 
constrained to acknowledge, that had not divine power 
prevented, I might have been in your situation ; and 
therefore do not imagine that I reproach you, from any 
disposition to say, * God, 1 thank thee, that I have 
made myself to differ.'" 

When I gazed on his mild eyes, they looked some- 
thing like ingenuous shame, and they were cast down. 
Who could believe the story of his baseness ] 

" Forlorn of hope, the lovely maid he left, 

" Pensive and pale, of ev'ry joy bereft; 

sc She to her silent couch retir'd to weep, 

" While her mad swain embark'd upon the deep." 

" You appear to be of my age, and I presume, in 
relation to worldly prospects, have seen better days. 



CAUSE AND END OF AFFLICTION. 133 

May your latter end be better than the beginning of 
life." 

" I am twenty-five years of age," said the youth with 
a smile, and intimated that he was gratified with the 
interest which a stranger appeared to take in his wel- 
fare. 

" We have lived long enough to know the vanity of 
that * world, which lieth in wickedness/ I have tasted 
of the bitter cup of disappointment, vexation, sorrow, 
and anguish, because, through my whole life, I have 
been a sinner. Let me tell you, friend, that all your 
troubles are the effects and due punishment of your own 
wickedness/' 

After this speech, he said that he would frankly con- 
fess himself a gay and thoughtless fellow; but it was 
from the want of reflection that he had yielded to almost 
*very temptation. 

" Now, then, you have time for reflection. c In the 
day of adversity consider/ for ' thus saith the Lord, 
consider your ways/ If you are not brought to serious 
reflection on the past, if you make no preparation for 
the future, your sufferings will be of no use, and all, 
even the soul, will be lost for ever/' 

After much confusion of face he recovered confidence, 
and diverted the discourse from personal applications of 
truth, to doctrinal discussion. He proposed many 
questions about the nature of repentance, the certainty 
of divine forgiveness, and the evidences of a future 
judgment. 

Repentance, in general, was stated to be such a 
change in a person's perceptions as is inseparably con- 
nected with regret for past conduct and a determination 
to pursue a different course in future. Repentance 

M 



134 NATURE OF REPENTANCE, &C. 

relates to our own actions; for I may lament the mis- 
conduct of others, but can never repent for their trans- 
gressions. Evangelical, or saving repentance, is such a 
change in a person's perceptions of evangelical truth., 
as is inseparably connected with regret for past 
hatred of it, and solemn purpose of new obedience. 
From an apprehension of the mercy of God in Christ, 
the penitent feels the complex emotion of hatred against 
all unbelief, and of earnest desire to live a life of faith 
on the Son of God. This change of mind will pro- 
duce a corresponding alteration in the external con- 
duct. 

The certainty that God will forgive the sins of every 
believer, so as not to punish him for one of them, was 
proved by some of the positive assertions of Jehovah, 
which are recorded in the holy scriptures. 

That there will be a future, general judgment, mav 
be rendered probable, from a statement of the principles 
of distributive justice, and the proof of the fact, that, 
in the present world, all men are not treated by the 
moral Governor of the universe according to their con- 
duct: but, when it is granted that the scriptures were 
given by inspiration of God, it is enough to read, that 
God " hath appointed a day in the which he will judge 
the world in righteousness." 

The same young man argued in favour of a state of 
insensibility between death and the resurrection, "be- 
cause/' he said, " none can be miserable until they are 
condemned." He had forgotten that unbelievers <f are 
condemned already;*' that the whole family of Adam is 
subjected to partial punishment in the present life, in 
consequence of the universal condemnation, and that 
future sufferings wifl be nothing more than the protract- 



THE SLEEPING SCHEME. 185 

fcd vengeance of the original curse. The day of final 
judgment will rather witness the confirmation of the 
first sentence of condemnation, than present anew one; 
for then such as have been unclean, and abominable, 
and accursed, will be assured that they shall remain 
" filthy still," and " go away into everlasting punish- 
ment." If it remains still to be decided, whether men 
shall come under the sentence of condemnation, why do 
they suffer? why do they die? Can it be possible, that 
God inflicts the penalty of his law upon mortals, with- 
out solemnly deciding that they are guilty ] 

Many of the common arguments against the slumber 
of the soul for ages, which were conclusive in the mind 
of the speaker, were then exhibited, and the English- 
man was left to his reflections, but not without the ex- 
pression of a prayer, that God would make him wise 
and happy. 

That a young man, who possesses a good mind, 
pleasing manners, and many personal accomplishments, 
should marry to defraud a young lady of her money, 
squander it upon his lusts, seduce the unsuspecting, 
engage himself to be married again, " pawn his sacred 
honour/' violate it the next moment, and traduce his 
lawful wife, by saying that he had, during courtship, 
kept her as his mistress, exhibits in strong colours the 
odious depravity of unsanctified human nature. 

I next visited the room where I was accustomed to 
see the old sailor, J — R — . The last time I had an 
interview with him was on the day before I left the city 
for the country. 

• I met him in a solitary part of the Hospital. He 
arose, bowed, and said, " Sir, I am glad to see you ; I 

M 2 



13(> THE SIN AGAINST THE HOLY GHOST. 

wish to speak to you : I want to know what sins a 
believer may be left to commit." 

It was not in the power of any man to tell him what 
sin, except blasphemy, the renewed man might not, 
when tempted, and in a measure deserted, perpetrate. 
With much solemnity he wished to know what was the 
sin of blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, for he con- 
fessed himself a blasphemous wretch. There is a sin 
unto death, which we are not to pray that God would 
pardon. It is a sin, which springs from conscious enmity 
to what is known to be the gracious operation of the 
Holy Spirit. It is a public, wilful sin of the tongue, 
against the Holy Ghost ; in which a person desirous of 
destroying experimental religion, imputes, contrary to 
the dictates of his own conscience, the divine operations 
in the performance of miracles, or in convincing, con- 
verting, and sanctifying sinners, to the devil, or some 
devilish priestcraft. 

This sin R — thought that he had not committed, 
but said, with tears streaming from his eyes, " I sin so 
enormously and so repeatedly, that I fear there is no 
mercy for me. When I hear you preach I believe what 
you say, and last Sunday I wanted to hide myself, and 
cry my fill; but yesterday I fell into my old sins again. 
You do not know what a sinner I am." 

" But Jesus Christ came into the world to save sin- 
ners from themselves and from hell, and the greatness of 
your sin cannot exclude you from heaven, if you truly 
believe and repent" 

" Sir, I confess," said R — , falling on his knees, — 
' Confess not to me, for I am a sinner V — " Sir I confess 
to God, that I am the vilest, hell-deserving sinner, and 
I pray God to take away my sins." 



CONVERSATION OF AN OLD CHRISTIAN. 137 

His attitude, his tears, his unaffected agony of soul, 
accompanied with the conviction, that in spite of the 
terrors of the Lord he would yield to the dominion of 
ardent spirits, made me tremblingly ask myself, " Lord, 
what is man]" Were it not for the habit of intemper- 
ance, might not this sinner enter the kingdom ef 
heaven ? 

J — R — was now gone, not to the grave, as most sea- 
men do before they have floated half the number of his 
days; but to the city, and I fear will soon arrive at one 
world of spirits, which will prove an awful prelude to 
tlie other. In his place, I found a respectable, white- 
headed man, Mr. T. S. C — , who entertained me with a 
long religious conversation, which was like a sermon to 
the patients of the room, from one of their companions. 
The substance of his conversation, and his language was 
this. 

" I am an old man : I have travelled much ; and par- 
ticularly in the Southern part of our country. There 
people call me a fatalist, because I maintain that God 
convinces of sin, God works faith, God pardons, God 
justifies, and God saves the sinner from divine self- 
moving goodness. When I was in Washington, a metho- 
dist came many miles to hold a disputation with me, and 
prove that I was a fatalist, but finally he confessed that 
God awakens, alarms, convinces, and converts the sinner, 
so that I had only to thank him for coming to me with 
the confession of the truth. One thing I shall maintain 
with my latest breath, that no sinner would ever be 
saved, were it not for the compelling grace of God ; for 
after the sinner is converted he keeps drawing back to 
sin. My only consolation is, that if God intends to save 
me, he will not suffer me to sin, so as finally to fall 

M 3 



138 THE NEW ALMSHOUSE. 

away. The reason why people call me a fatalist is be- 
cause they are Arminians." 

With much similar doctrine and language the old man 
spake for nearly half an hour, and then fell back ex- 
hausted on his pillow. Half the Doctors do not teach 
so well as this man. 

Among the events which deserve a place in the short, 
but faithful annals of the poor, is the foundation of the 
new Almshouse. The corner-stone was laid on this 1st 
day of August, 1811. 

The new building will be erected a few miles from 
the city, in an airy situation, near the east river. It is 
to be much larger than the present, and divided in such 
a manner as to prevent all improper intercourse between 
the paupers. It will also contain a chapel for public 
worship, in which I hope some one, or many, will preach 
the Gospel of salvation to the poor. 

The honourable corporation of this city have de- 
served the applause of their fellow-citizens for laying 
the corner-stone of an edifice, which will, in the opinion 
of every benevolent man, be a more distinguished orna- 
ment of this metropolis than the beautiful marble hall of 
justice. The latter is the finest structure in our country; 
but the plain wails of the former will have more glory. 

In this place, the reader may not be displeased with 
an extract from an anonymous letter, addressed to the 
stated preacher ; which appears to be in the autograph 
of some venerable clergyman. 

" What is our world but an Almshouse and an Hospi- 
tal ! Are not all upon alms? Who made the world for 
us? Who hath spread out the heavens for entertain- 
ment, for our dignity, and for our glory ? Who from the 
heavens poureth down daily bounties on every living 



AN ANONYMOUS LETTER. 139 

thing? Who hath stretched abroad the sea, filling it 
with its treasures, conveying on its surface the fullness 
of every clime ? Who hath ordained the vegetable, the 
animal, and the mineral kingdoms, that they should con- 
tribute of their bounties to the use and ornament of 
man? Who hath ordained to us life, and health, and 
friendships, and employments, and profits, and riches ? 
Are not only these, in measure and sort best suited to 
our condition, poured out from the store-house of God's 
infinite fulness ? Do they not fall as aims upon impotent, 
impoverished, and needy mortals here below? Surely 
we are all receivers of alms. God is the Grand Almoner 
of the universe. Angels and men, heaven and earth, 
must subscribe to this doctrine. 

" Pensioners we all are. Life we did not procure, 
and life we cannot keep. Health may be enjoyed, but 
who can endorse upon it? Riches may be in hand, but 
who can command that they should never flee away? 
Friends may surround us, but who can blunt the edge 
of death, that it shall never mow them down? Mental 
strength, vivid imagination, and powers of utterance, 
like dew-drops, may sparkle about our head, but shall 
not the scorching sun and blowing wind soon dry and 
shake our leaves ? Alas! alas! how soon is gone, what 
man may most call his own ! From stations of honour, 
from the sanctuaries of learning and religion, how soon 
fade the gifts, which form the wreath of human glory ! 
Certainly the most celebrated persons were the re- 
cipients of alms. They deserved them not, they pro- 
cured them not, they retained them not. Can less be 
said of your congregation at the Almshouse ? They are 
only stripped of what once they were, from the free 
bounty of heaven. They have lived upon the Alms- 



140 LETTER CONTINUED. 

from their birth; and so have we, and so has every 
nag. H you are ashamed to preach at the A. 
house of one city, look up, and be astonished that 
Deity should condescend to minister of his alms to 
a thousand cities, in such a thousand ways! What a 
glorious and full-handed Almoner must the Almighty 
be! He deals out worlds, and their inhabitants ; king- 
doms and their hosts; men with their families; and 
appoints to them their supplies. Glorious God! we 
bow at thy fukiess, astonished at thy goodness, and are 
humbled at the sight of our emptiness ! 

M Your Almshouse then is an epitome of the Universe! 
All dependent, all needy, all provided for ! What then 
is the Hospital? It is a commentary on the Almshouse. 
It teaches, that well as we may be provided for in meats 
and drinks, the Hospital must receive us at last. As 
fully as your city is supplied, it must have its Hospital. 
As healthy as the inhabitants may appear, there must 
be a sick room : and lon^ as some may promise to live, 
they must die ; so that all who have drawn their supplies 
from the great store-house of Gods bounty through lite, 
must come to the Hospital of infirmity and of death, at 
last."' 

The founders and supporters of the new Almshouse, 
therefore, are permitted to become workers with God, 
in relieving misery, feeding the poor, healing the sick, 
and promoting the happiness of needy mortals. 



August 2nd, 

This afternoon was devoted to the visiting of six 
wards in the Almshouse. 

The guardian of the sick soldier has revived a little, 



PARTICULAR REDEMPTION. 141 

and has left the institution. From the room, in which 
she lay, several have lately been carried to the grave. 
In another ward I found A — W — still alive, but more 
emaciated than when I saw her last, and in the same 
gloomy stupor. In another ward, I found, besides one 
or two from the Hospital, one whom I do not disdain to 
call friend; for she appears to be a friend to Jesus. It 
was M — B — , who has gained considerable flesh, and 
who has now some hope of restoration to health ; but 
who gives as much evidence of penitence, as she did 
when in despair of life. In another ward, as my shade 
darkened the door of the room, the aged woman, intro- 
duced to notice in my record of Jan. 1st, exclaimed, 
*' There comes my Christian friend again. O Sir, 
stop, I want to hear you talk ; I want to talk to 
you." 

Among other things, she said, with emphasis, u I 
know that Jesus died for me, poor wicked me, and how 
can I help loving him T* 

I demanded if she was not afraid to say, that he had 
died for her particularly and personally ; and asked 
how she knew it. 

" By the spirit he has given me f 9 was her reply, 
"for if God had'nt given his Son to die for me, he 
would'n't have given me such faith and hope, and love. 
O Jesus is precious, Sir, to pje, for he is my Saviour; 
he is all my hope ; and I wait to go to him when he 
calls. 1 believe every word he says, and that makes me 
alive. I live on him by day and night, and that makes 
me forget my old age, my poverty, and bodily pain." 

Had I talked to this woman about Christ's dying for 
sin in general, and not particularly to redeem the persons 
of believers, I think she would not have understood me. 



142 INDUSTRY OP THE BLIND: 

In the blind ward I found Wm. Mc D — s an old 
man, blind ever since his remembrance, turning oat 
button-moulds. Commonly he is found at this business; 
for he is allowed the profits of his labour. He pur- 
chases huck-bones of the cooks, splits them with a 
hatchet, and prepares them, by boiling, to come under 
the operation of his turning machine. He can make 
two gross in a day ; and they are far superior to an\ of 
the imported button-moulds. Here I saw also a widow, 
who has been blind four years, helping herself to a few 
cents daily, by cutting walnut skewers for the butchers 
to give a bloated consistency to their meat. She was 
contented with her employment, and said that her fir^t 
wish was to know and please God. Such advice and 
consolation as I was able to give, was bestowed upon 
all. God bless the poor! May they be rich in faith* 
and heirs of the kingdom of God ! 



+.**+* *■■* * 



August 4th. 

The room was more than full this morning at the 
Almshouse; and one person who was never present be- 
fore, was arrested by the truth ; so that before the close 
of the service he wept like a child. Besides him, a 
middle-aged woman, who has for some months been at- 
tentive to the word, is overcome, I hope, by the grace 
of God. She could not restrain her feelings ; and re- 
quested, after service, that sbe soon might have oppor- 
porunity to converse with me. E — C — , a tall, neat, 
aged, pious woman, evinced how much she loved the 
truth, by arising from the bed, to which she was con- 
fined yesterday, creeping up stairs, and paying par lieu- 



NARRATIVE OF A MIXER. 143 

lar attention to all the parts of public worship. She 
gave me her hand, burning with the hectic fever, and 
death looked from her eyes upon me ; but the Spirit of 
God dwells in her soul. 

I visited some aged women in another room, who al- 
most chided me for not preaching in their presence 
more frequently. They cannot follow me from room 
to room, by reason of many infirmities. One was read- 
ing the Bible when I entered, and I said, " You must 
comfort yourself with that book, when you cannot hear 
the ministers of reconciliation." 

" It is my comfort," she said ; " and I am impatient 
that you do not come, for you help me to understand 

it" 

In the afternoon I exchanged with Dr. R — , who 
went to the Hospital, preached to my audience, and 
assures me that lie was never more deeply affected in 
any place of worship, than at the attention of the af- 
flicted patients. 



August Qth. 



In his excursions through eight wards of the Hospi- 
tal, the writer found one T — s J — s, a miner, who was 
born in America, but in youth went to England, resided 
there several years, and spent much of his time in sub- 
terranean regions. He has not long resided in his 
native country. During the whole of this summer sea- 
son, sickness has prevented him from labouring more 
than two or three days. 

For the space of several weeks before he came to this 
institution, he was insane ; but when reason returned, 



144 WILLINGNESS TO DIE. 

he proposed to take up his residence in this temple of 
charity, that his wife might have opportunity to main- 
tain their children. 

Now he is afflicted with the dysentery - but is patient 
in tribulation. When he first went to England, about 
twenty- three years ago, he thinks that he was coil- 
verted under the preaching of Mr. John Wesley. For 
a few years he supposes that he grew in knowledge and 
grace; but since that time he feels that he has, the 
greater part of the time, been growing worse. "When 
I look upon myself/' said he, "every one else is whole. 
I know that I am the chief of sinners; but still I hope, 
because God has spoken peace, through Jesus Christ." 
Re declared that the situation of his wife and children 
was the only thing which made him desire lire. 

u There is, Sir," he affirmed, " such a thing as a 
nillingness to die.' J Although most men will not be- 
lieve it, yet there is in some believers even a desire 
to depart. 

The writer visited the young Englishman again, and 
found him with a bymn-book by his side. He was fond 
of conversing, and thought that M affliction must natu- 
rally and necessarily, without any supernatural influ- 
ence, make men better." This is the judgment of all 
who know but little of the sad depravity of the human 
heart. Experience has long since decided, that if sick- 
nesses are not sanctified by some extraneous agency, 
they are of no personal advantage. 

With Mr. T. S, C — , the aged traveller, considerable 
time was spent; and our conversation gained the atten- 
tion of all the patients in the room. His principal fault, 
which is discoverable, is a polemic spirit, which savours 
a little too much of bitterness. Still he thinks manv 



INEFFICACY OF WORKS ALONE* 145 

t* rroneous persons sincere Christians. In doctrine he 
thinks all the churches are Arminian in the United 
States, except the different denominations of Presbyte- 
rians and Baptists. To a long hymn of thirteen stanzas, 
which he composed in the Hospital, and which contain 
much sound doctrine, but no poetry, he has subjoined 
the following 

NOTE. 

" These lines go to shew the impropriety of depend- 
ing too much on men's works, instead of grace, for sal- 
vation ; and also of saying that a convert of God can 
be finally lost, as it would argue imperfection in God, 
and give the preference to the Devil. The Arminians 
work by faith without grace, and the Predestinarians 
through faith by grace. The Arminians say, after God 
converts and declares the soul an heir of heaven, that 
the Devil can revoke the decree, and damn the creature 
at last; but the Predestinarians urge, that when God 
does the work, it is eternally done, independent of hell 
itself." 

*v •s* *■* r* ./> r* 

August 10th. 

" Yet shalt thou know, nor is the difference nice, 
" The casual fall, from impudence of vice. 
" Abandoned guilt by active laws restrain, 

" But pause if virtue's slightest spark remain." 

Laxghorve, 

Six wards in the Hospital I have visited to-day, and 
prayed with many in the closing scenes of life. No 
object interested my feelings more, than the young per 
son, whom on the first day of the present month, was 
found reading the Bible. She has a fair complexion,, 

N 



146 CAROLINE, A DELUDED FEMALE. 

a soft eye, a fine form, agreeable features, and hands 
more delicate than they should be, unless she has lived 
in a family of distinction, and is a child of affluence. 

She says that she has lived only eighteen years, and 
her many tears make me solicitous to become acquaint- 
ed with her whole history. Something has been col- 
lected from her, by some of the persons in the Hospital, 
at different times, which may be partially true, wholly 
true, or entirely false. So many romantic tales are 
told by patients of this sort, that very few of them can 
be trusted. 

According to her account, she was born in G — 11, in 
the State of Vermont. She has a father and mother 
living, who have been divorced. All the children con- 
tinued with their mother. One of her brothers and a 
sister are married ; but she and her youngest brother 
remain single. Caroline, (for that is the name of the 
person in the Hospital.) was sent to a boarding school, 
at the distance of a few miles from her mother's 
residence, where she became acquainted with a fascinat- 
ing young man. For three months, this young stranger, 
who had business in the vicinity, paid her flattering at- 
tentions. At the expiration of that period, with the 
consent of her mother, who had approved of his suit, 
they commenced a journey, with the professed intention 

of seeing his relatives in P -., where the ordinance of 

marriage was to be administered. Instead of taking her 
to P , they came without her knowledge, to Pearl- 
street in this city, where they boarded with a widow 
and her daughter, in genteel lodgings, for ten days. 
The seducer continued to renew his promise of taking 
her to his friends, and of becoming her husband. She 
loved him ardently, and therefore he succeeded in quiet- 



HER FORLORN CONDITION. 147 

ing her apprehensions. He enticed her delicately, and 
therefore successfully. The spoiler came, found the 
sweet flower of the mountains, plucked it in wantonness, 
rifled it of its fragrance, and cast it away to perish with 
noxious weeds. She believed him true, but found him 
false. So long had she resisted his solicitations, that he 
consorted with others, and when he vanquished, he con- 
taminated his prey. She was far from friends, without 
money, in a strange city, under the protection of one 
whom she criminally loved, and exposed at the same 
time to the fear of his declining the desired union, and 
to the horrors of an accusing conscience. In sickness 
she was deserted, and, when scarcely able to move, 
sought a retreat in the Hospital. 

She wept abundantly to-day, and assured me of her 
serious intention of returning to her mother, and of 
departing from iniquity. Vigorous exertions to snatch 
her from perdition, shall be made if I live ; and the re- 
sult must be left to God. Success would be grateful ; 
but to fail in the attempt will be honourable. May the 
Lord give her repentance ! 

While I was preaching in the Almshouse this evening, 
four dying persons surrounded me, whose bodies were 
in such a putrescent state, that I loathed my necessary 
breath. Although the nurse burned, occasionally, some 
linen, and fumigated the room with acetous evaporation, 
yet the effluvia, had I not been provided with some 
aromatics, would have caused vomiting. In another 
room I visited a dying woman, who was perfectly 
rational, but speechless. After a short discourse was 
directed to her, she put out her hand towards rue, and 
then lifted it to heaven. I did not understand her 
request. She looked upon me, in the language of earnest 

N2 ' 



148 TWO IRISH PATIENTS. 

supplication, beckoned to me to bow my head, and 
whispered, " Pray, pray for me." Her request being 
complied with, she took my hand again, gave it a gentle 
pressure, turned to heaven the aspect of gratitude, and 
closed her eyes on all messengers of the gospel for ever 
and ever. 



August \bih* 

Two Irishmen are now in the Hospital, who excite 
the mingled emotion of pleasure and commiseration. 
One has lately arrived in this city, and would have 
gone immediately to his relatives, who preceded him to 
the western part of Pennsylvania, and now expect him 
to follow, but was arrested by the dysentery, which has 
left him in a very low condition. Beside his bed I took 
my seat, and he turned his blue eyes on me like a 
brother. A smile of complacency was lighted up in 
his countenance, when I began to speak of Jesus 
Christ. 

" Should it please God" he said, " to take me up 
once more, I should be grateful" 

u But if he allows you to wither here, what then 1 
Does he any injustice? 

" No, I could not complain, for he Heals kindly 
with me" This appeared to be the undisguised senti- 
ment of his soul. He firmly, and I think with personal 
application, with appropriating faith, asserts the authen- 
ticity of the scriptures, and the divinity of Christ. 
Death he apprehends must be the result of his present 
sickness ; but still assures me, that his inability to read 
the bible, from optical weakness, is his greatest present 
trial. 



SAFETY IN THE MIDST OF DANGER. 149 

This young man is fairer and more gentle than any of 
his countrymen, whom I have seen. If the sons of 
Hibernia were generally to resemble him, and T were a 
native of that country, in the possession of civil and 
religious liberty, I would tune my lyre with every, 
setting sun, and strike the bold tune of " Ireland for 
ever." 

The other was cast in a rougher mould, and 
made of honest, but " sterner stuff." Until lately he 
has been on board of an English ship of war, of one 
hundred and ten guns. In childhood he was taught to 
read the word of God, and instructed in the principles 
of the protestant religion. When he left home, the 
sailor's wardrobe, a silken handkerchief, contained the 
best of books ; which proved a sort of silent companion 
in most of his voyages. For years he kept it, as one 
would medicine, to be used in sickness, when he could 
not possibly avoid it. The sight of it was a reproof to 
him ; he sometimes read it by way of compensation for 
past neglect ; and eventually it proved powerful. For 
a few of the last years of his life it has been the instru- 
ment of his consolation. It has taught him that he is a 
sinner ; that God has provided salvation for rebels, and 
that there is neither peace nor safety but under the 
divine protection. 

" The goodness of God in preserving me," said this 
man, " is wonderful. I have often stood where one 
man has been cut down on my right band, and another, 
on my left. I thought, says I, if God pleases to pre- 
serve me here, he can do it ; and he has done it : for 
why am 1 alive] Once, Sir, it was hot work! in an 
action, thirteen men of us were at a gun, and in th% 
hottest of the business, I thought he could preserve me, 
N 3 



150 REPROOF TO A SEA-FARING CHAPLAIN. 

there ; and so he did, for every man of us thirteen was 
killed, but one man and lnyself." 

Some antipathy this sailor has, but such as is very 
reasonable, against those persons who, for office, make 
a profession of religion, and partake of the Lord's sup- 
per. He could not respect a petty officer of the 
marines, who had a dispute with a private man, on the 
subject of their respective claims to the Christian 
character. The little man, with a carving knife dang- 
ling at his hip, terminated the debate by saying, with 
an oath, " Weil, well, I am the best Christian, for I've 
come up to the holy tabk, and you have not." The 
vanquished tar indeed, had taken many oaths, but never 
the oath of a baptized midshipman, whose profane lips 
are imbued with sacramental wine. The chaplain of 
the ship was equally contemptible, in the opinion of the 
Irishman, because, to use his own words, u he did not 
preach about spiritual things ; and after sermon, would 
spend the sabbath in playing cards, in fishing, or, if 
near the shore, in hunting, with the other officers. 
Once, Sir, for a sermon, be took out a piece of paper, 
and went to reading, that we ought to be thankful we 
had such good officers, such a good King, and such a 
good service ; and that the yoke put on us was not like 
the yoke Bonaparte has put on the neck of Holland. 
Upon this all the sailors arose and capsized their seats 
saying, if he had nothing to preach to them about fthat 
they needed to know, they should not hear him/' 

" Were you not punished," I asked, " for this con- 
temptuous treatment]" 

" No, Sir ; for the officers knew that the chaplain was 
a worthless fellow ; and six hundred men were quite too 
manj for them to punish at once. J> 



THE ANXIOUS MOTHER. 151 

This man is of middle-age, and will probably fight 
his last battle, with death, in the Hospital. He meets 
not the king of terrors in streams of fire, in sounds of 
thunder, and storms of chain-shot ; but in the form of 
noxious vapour, which unseen, pervades the vitals and 
mingles deadly miasma with the purple streams of life. 
One might as well plunge a dagger into the bosom of a 
ghost, as contend with this enemy. 

His greatest present sorrow arises, if I may believe 
him, from the remembrance of the profanity of his 
youth, and the sins of his riper years. 

The sorrows of a mother, on her death-bed, claim 
peculiar respect. Mrs. M — S — said, " Dear minister, 
what will become of my fatherless children, when they 
are orphans V This woman is a member of Trinity 
Church, has had all her children baptized there, and 
with many tears expresses her maternal apprehension, 
that should she die. they would not " be brought up to 
church, and taught religion/' With gratitude she ac- 
knowledges the kind attentions of Mrs. J — and S — 
R — , who have furnished her with work, and assisted 
her to support four children, ever since she has been de- 
serted by an intemperate husband. 

She united with me in prayer, in a tearful and very 
devout manner ; yea, when I left the room, her hands 
and eyes were still directed^ to heaven in humble sup- 
plication. 



152 CAROLINE AGAIN" VISITED, 

August 11th. 

" The downcast eye, the tear that Sows amain, 

" As if to ask her innocence again ; 

ik The cheek that wears the beauteous robe of lihfumc,, 

l< How loath they leave a gentle breast to blame !*' 

Langhorve. 

The man who feels no compassion for a deluded 
female, who can blush, and weep over her fall; the 
being, who does not hate the conduct of bewitching 
man. when it terminates in the ruin of domestic peace, 
and the loss of that which makes life desirable to the 
infatuated individual, has more than a common share of 
original depravity. By the offence of our progenitor, 
all men are deprived of the original righteousness wfaieii 
he possessed, and what they inherit is corruption ; but 
some have more damning ingredients put into their 
composition than others. Some are born tigers, and 
some lions, and some foxes, and some like the timid 
deer, or the •' shorn lamb," to which God tempers the 
storm. 

The amiable sort of men would be moved at the 
sight of seventeen females, withering in one room, in 
the morning of life ; and the Christian, would speak to 
them, with something of that meekness and tender coi> 
cern, which characterized his divine -Master. 

Caroline was one of the number. I found and left 
her in tears. Her mother, her " poor mother, ; ' was the 
theme of her discourse, and the remembrance of her, 
the cause of tears. For some months the mother has 
not heard a word from her daughter, and is at this 
moment ignorant of her situation. 

I proposed to write to her mother: She declined. 



PENITENCE TO HER PARENTS. 15$ 

and said she had thought of writing herself; but could 
not endure the thought of letting her parent know her 
circumstances. 

"You have another Parent, whom you have more 
deeply offended. " 

She knw it, she said, but confessed that she was 
more anxious for her mother than herself. " Were it 
not for paining my mother, and exciting her fears, I 
would write. It is my most earnest desire to cast my- 
self down before her. Were it possible, I would go on 
foot to her as I am, and confess all my sins." 

" In that manner you must go to a forgiving God ; 
for he alone can reform your heart and life. Before 
him you must appear in all your iniquities." 

Another scene I have witnessed to-day, which is 
worthy of record on the annals of the poor. Well did 
Agur pray, " give me not poverty, lest I be poor and 
steal, and take the name of my God in vain." His 
Honour the Mayor, De Witt Clinton, in the performance 
of his official duty, passed sentence on about thirty 
culprits, for their respective offences against the laws of 
the country. In the company, which stood at the bar 
of judgment, was a young man, of reputable appear- 
ance, en whom leaned a delicate young female, who 
was dressed with taste, and had the demeanour of a 
lady. The young man had lately come from Europe to 
Massachusetts, and, by his gentlemanly address, per- 
sonal attractions, professions of love, or something else, 
which captivated the affections, gained the hand of the 
young lady, contrary to her father's consent. To 
escape the indignation of an injured parent, the Euro- 
pean fled with his prize to New- York; and here, being 
io want of money, thought to gain a supply by stealing 



J54 DEATH OF A SPANIARD. 

a pocket-book. He was detected, convicted, and pteaef- 
e J necessity in extenuation of his crime. On this miser- 
able pick-pocket hangs the happiness of a youthful wife, 
who married without fully knowing the character of her 
partner. In her behalf the attorney for the criminal 
prayed for the mercy of the court. Ever^ eye was 
moved at her appearance, every heart at her situation. 
His Honour warned her of the danger of continuing to 
live with such a man as her husband, in a state of 
vagrancy, exhorted her to return to her father, and 
remain with her friends until her lover should give 
evidence of an honest, industrious disposition, and at 
the same time proffered all necessary assistance for her 
journey. Should this man, said the judge, retrieve his 
character, he might then visit, and claim his wedded 
companion. In consequence of her youth and unpro- 
tected condition, the criminal was sentenced to impri- 
sonment in Bridewell far no more than thirty days. The 
firmness and justice of His Honour, for which he is 
deservedly celebrated on the bench, were tempered with 
mercy ; with such mercy as it is consistent with civil 
law to grant. 



+^++.++*+++- 



August 19ih. 



Yesterday, which was the sabbath, I performed 
my stated services, and to-day have visited eight wards 
in the Hospital. In one I found a Spaniard, who a few 
hours before had fallen from mast-head upon the hatches, 
and mangled his crown in a shocking manner. He died 
while I was there; and such was the vehement cir- 
culation in his system, that his pulse continued to beat 



DEPRAVITY OF A SAILOB. 156 

for nearly half an hour after all apparent respiration 
had ceased. 

Iu full view of this dying man, I conversed with J — - 
R — , the old sailor, who has found his way back to this 
institution already, by another season of drunkenness, 
He professed great gratitude to God, that in a long sea- 
faring life, he had not been arrested in a similar manner. 
Never did I hear one insist upon it, with so little afiec- 
tation of humiliation, that he was the chief of sinners. 
R — lives under the terrors of the law, reads his bible 
in an agony, and gets drunk the first opportunity which 
presents itself. "Sir, when I am here," said he, " and 
you preach, or I read the bible, I believe every word, 
and determine well; but when I go out into company, 
if I will not swear and drink as my messmates do, I am 
nobody. Its a hard thing fur an old sailor to get to 
heaven." 

" You must be contented to be nothing for Christ's 
sake." 

'■'Oh! I pray God that he would break my hard 
heart; and keep me from my sin ; and I have long 
prayed, but it will not break: 'tis hard as rock. I do 
not know that I ever prayed aright." This man presents 
an awful instance of mental agony, and the power of 
vicious habits. " Can the Ethiopian ehange his skin, 
or the leopard his spots ] Then may ye also do good 
that are accustomed to do evil."* 

* Xot lor.g after the above date. J — R — ■ begged me to give 
htm a Hy mil-Book. He committed many of them to memory, 
and continued in the same frame of mind until he left the Hospi- 
tal. Since that time. I have not seen him, but a respectable Cap- 
iBforms me that R — keeps the Hymn-Book and Bible always 
a him ; reads them when sober, %i and will not pare with theox 



153 AFFLICTION SANCTIFIED, 

The young Englishman confesses that he has been a 
thoughtless rake, and is much amazed that God did not 
dash him into atoms ; but that he will acknowledge his 
injustice to his wife does not appear. 

Among the people of colour, I found Richard Neal* 
a native of Delaware, aged twenty-eight Years, who is 
blasted with the rheumatism. He lived, in childhood, 
in a family which paid decent attention to religion, and 
in which he obtained some speculative knowledge of the 
way of salvation. "At that time," he said, " I knew 
something, but felt nothing." He has been sick two 
years, and with tears in his eyes blesses God that he 
did not cut him off in health ; that he has severely 
afflicted him, and made him acquainted with Jesus 
Christ. Had he died in health, he thinks that he 
should certainly have been damned. 

" But how do you know now," I demanded, "that 
you shall be saved ?" 

u By the glorious approbation of God's love, which 
he has put into my heart. He makes me feel that he is 
the forgiving God. I know that I am a vile sinner, 
but God would never have done this for me, had not 
Christ died for me. I can truly, Sir, declare, that 1 
have had more happiness since I have keen sick, than I 
ever had in my whole life before.'' 

" Were you now to appear before God, what do y&n 
think would be your first business f 

" I would bless and praise his holy name for his 
sal cat ion V 

when crunk for love nor money." Some have attempted to pur- 
chase them of him, but every application enrages him even to 
profanity \ * misery, he will reac 1 7 T :7 

a^a: 



THE PROGRESS OF MORTALITY. 157 

u What would, you do next f 

" I would pray God to keep me from stn, for ever, 
and ever." 

Christian reader, such was the conversation of a poor 
black man. Does not he exhibit the power of grace X 
Has he not a holy hatred of sin? God has taught him 
sounder practical divinity than is to be found in many 
ponderous volumes of Christian Doctors. Should not 
this man's proficience in the divine life reprove the 
sluggish believer? 

Would to God that multitudes were like poor Richard* 
with the exception of his rheumatism ! 



August 20th. 

Six wards* in the Almshouse have been visited to- 
day, and it was found that one or two persons had died 
in each of them, during the past week. With some of 
the dying I prayed, and with some conversed. One 
man, who has been confined with a fractured limb six 
weeks, has in that time read Owen on the 130th 
Psalm, and committed to memory twenty-six hymns. 



August '24th; 

Caroline appears to be more concerned for herself 

than she did formerly, when she thought more of dis- 
honouring her mother, than of displeasing the dreadful 

* By examining the remaining manuscript of the Journal, tl 
appears, tfc&t the stated preacher has visited not less than ten 
ward? in the tv.-j institutions in every -^reek, besides preachii. \ 
an average, live discourse?. In future, the reader tnH 
abridgment, instead full- 

D 



158 THE MAGDALEN HOSPITAL, 

God. She says, that she prays, almost constantly, that 
God would forgive her sins. If this person acts the 
part of a hypocrite, she must be a consummate mistress 
of her art. I know that the eyes may be wiped, when 
they are dry, and that the man whose heart laughs at 
the imposition, may shed tears like the crocodile : but 
will the hypocrite always weep ] Will the deceiver wet 
his nightly couch, and his morsel of bread with tears 2 
For one, I confess, that although I rarely weep, yet 
I think favourably of the person, whose eye, like that 
of Job, " poureth out tears unto God." " She weepeth 
sore in the night, and her tears are on her cheeks; 
among all her lovers she hath none to comfort her: all 
her friends have dealt treacherously with her." 

Even some of her companions, who rarely give each 
other much credit for sincerity, weep with her. One 
of them listened, while I spake to Caroline, who never 
discovered any feeling before, and the opportunity 
was improved of pressing divine truth home upon her 
mind. 

Almost every day, I exclaim, " Oh ! for a Magdalen 
Hospital!" An institution of this name was opened in 
London, August 10th, 1758, and previously to January 
3rd, 1811, admitted four thousand one hundred and 
twenty -eight females. Of this number, 80 remained in 
the institution; 103 were removed because they were 
lunatic, subject to fits, or afflicted with incurable dis- 
orders; 75 died; 612 were discharged at their own re- 
quest; 526 were discharged for improper behaviour; 
and 2732 had been reconciled to friends, placed in ser- 
vice, or provided with reputable occupations. The 
Report for April 24th, 1811, states that, " of the 
number reconciled to friends, or placed in service, 



THE MAGDALEN'S HYMN. lo9 

some, undoubtedly, have relapsed into their former errors ; 
but many who left the house at their own request, have 
since behaved well ; and several of those discharged for 
improper behaviour in the house have, to the certain 
knowledge of the committee, never returned to evil 
courses. In the year 1791, great pains were taken to 
trace out the situation of all those women, who left the 
house during four years, from May 1786 to May 1790; 
and the result of that inquiry, which was made with the 
utmost accuracy, shows, that during that period, about 
two-thirds of the whole number of women admitted 
were permanently reclaimed '." Of 246 discharged in 
four years, 157 were then behaving well, 74 behaving 
ill, 4 insane in confinement; and the situation of 10 un- 
known. " The women, when discharged from the 
house, are, for the most part, under twenty years 
of age; and it is an invariable rule not to dismiss any 
woman, (unless at her own desire or for misconduct, 
without some means being provided, by which she may 
obtain a livelihood in an honest manner/' 

A chapel is provided for the persons in this Hospital, 
in which the founders, and friends of the charity have 
often heard the most grateful music from the choir of 
protected females. One of their hymns is peculiarly 
appropriate and beautiful. 

I shall transcribe it, with the hope that some who 
read it, may hear it sung in a similar Hospital in 
America. 

Ci Father of mercies, hear our pray'rs 

For those who do us good ; 
Whose love for us a place prepare^ 
And kindly gives us food, 
o 2 



200 THE DEVOUT MAN OF COLOUR, 

" Each hand and heart, that lends us aid, 
Thou didst inspire and guide ; 

Nor is their bounty unrepaid, 
Who for the poor provide. 

44 Thou still shalt be our grateful theme, 
Thy praise we'll ever sing ; 

Our friends, the kind refreshing stream. 
But thou, th' unfailing spring. 

" For those whose goodness founded this, 

A better house prepare ; 
Receive them to thy heav'nly bliss, _^ 

And may we meet them there I 

" May all the pleasing pains they share 
Be crown'd with wish'd success j 

The present age applaud their care, 
And future ages bless ! 

" So shall the helpless, who remain 

Expos' d as we before, 
Increasing still our humble strain, 

With louder songs adore.' * 



<****&**■■*■■*+■* 



August 21th. 

A servant of an excellent family is now sick in the 
Hospital. Servants of colour can be more faithfully 
attended in this house, than in almost any private 
dwelling; and when their masters support them, it 
should not be considered unkind to transmit them to 
the care of ever-watchful nurses and physicians. 

To this man the preacher said, " How great was the 
condescension of Christ in coming down from heaven to 
save sinners V 

The patient rolled over in bed, rubbed the large 
plaister on his breast in extreme agony, and lifting bis 



CONSOLATION IN PRAYER. 161 

hands and eyes to heaven, said "O God, forgive! Yes, 
he is a dear, dear, dear Jesus/' He could not speak 
louder than a whisper, but perhaps Christ was never 
called precious in a more affecting manner. 

To be a servant in a religious family is an inestimable 
blessing. This person was taught the way of life thro' 
the example and counsel particularly of his mistress. 

Mr. T. S. C — , has lately begun to read the Bible in 
one of the wards of black people, and it is said that 
his hearers are very attentive to the aged lay-preacher. 
Caroline looks miserably. She has seasons of weeping, 
which not unfrequently last all day and all night. Every 
person in the house seems to feel deep compassion for 
her. 



August 29tk. 

A DYING man requested that some minister might 
be invited to pray with him. When the Orderly-man, 
who is very attentive to all the sjck in such cases, asked 
whom he shouid call ; the patient replied, " 1 have al- 
ways belonged to the Episcopal church, but I do not 
care who comes, or what is his denomination, if he is 
a good man and can pra^L" % He made an attempt to 
speak to the writer; but after many struggles whis- 
pered, "On ! I lament that I cannot talk with you." 

The confessions of sin, contained in the excellent 
form of prayer to which he had been accustomed were 
repeated, explained, and enforced. Then the doctrine 
of pardon, which is set forth in the same liturgy, was 
exhibited. After a short pause, he whispered, saying, 
" When the wicked man turneth away from his wicked- 

o 3 



162 THE BENEFICENT COBLEB* 

ness that he hath committed, and doeth that which » 
lawful and right, he shall save his soul alive. I have 
been a very great sinner, but I have been several years 
reformed/' There was no evidence to disprove this 
testimony, and charity hopeth all things. It was inti- 
mated, however, that the sinner always needs pardon ; 
and that, when truly reformed, his only foundation of 
hope is the righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ. Af- 
ter uniting in prayer with the writer, the dying man 
requested another visit. 

Another man was the object of peculiar attention, 
because he is nigh unto death, and perhaps equally 
near to hell; who is so disgusted with this state of 
suffering that he wishes to die, and thinks this resigna- 
tion. He is confident of perfect preparation to go to 
his Father; and will confess that he is a sinner, but 
discards the Saviour. Such hope is without foundation ; 
such resignation, or rather, dissatisfaction with divine 
providence, is impiety; and all such religion worse 
than vain. 

Mrs. M — S — , who is bloated with the dropsy, dis- 
covered so much concern for her youngest son, that a 
young man went in search of him, to procure him a 
lodging in the Almshouse. The lad was found with a 
family which resides in a cellar, and is supported by 
selling vegetables, and making coarse shoes. The shoe- 
maker had protected the child for some weeks, and fed 
iim gratis ; but said that he could not keep him longy 
because he was too small to set upon the bench of his 
profession. " Well then, my little fellow," said the 
young gentleman, taking the boy by the hand, "I will 
get you a birth in the Almshouse, for I am too poor to 
keep you," 



DEISTICAL WHISPERINGS. 16$: 

The cobler and his wife came to the door with sad 
countenances. The frugal pair had potatoes to sell, 
and could make shift to live by the sweat of the brow, 
" I would gladly keep him/' said the man, " but I have a 
large family, and he cannot earn any thing yet." 

He was about to be led away to a sad place. '"Tis a 
pity," said the good woman, " that such a likely child 
should go to the poor-house : let him stay here." 

It was concluded that the boy should remain where 
he was, until his mother was dead, or untill a more 
eligible situation could be found. 

The poor are frequently more beneficent than the 
rich : and the person who of his penury gives all that 
he has, when duty demands it, shall be more honour- 
able than those who give but a pittance from their 
luxuries, but two mites from their abundance. " It is 
more blessed to give than to receive." 



August $0th, 

This morning the Episcopalian was not to be found 
in the land of the living. The man who boasted of 
perfect resignation, said much more than any good 
man would desire to hear. He took the preacher by 
the hand and the button, to make him listen to deistical 
whisperings. Although he was so far gone in the con- 
sumption that he could not utter a loud word, yet he 
said, "I thank God that I am willing to die, because I 
am prepared ; and that 1 have from my cradle despised 
all this dispute about Methodism, Presbyterianism, and 
Episcopacy. I care for none of their systems; aud 
thank God that all the preachers in the world cannot 



1M DANGER OF SELF-DEPENDENCE. 

drive me out of my sentiments. If I frequented the 
grog-shops, I did not myself drink to excess, nor par- 
take with those who blasphemed their Maker. On the 
sabbath I sat and smoked in a friendly way with my 
neighbours, while others were running to this and that 
church, to show their new clothes, to hear a new preach- 
er, and to criticise his discourse. Now, Sir, which of 
us was in the best case ]" 

"Neither of you conducted yourself in such a man- 
ner as to please God ; and neither of you, if sensible 
of hi* guilt, could die with composure." 

He rejoined, "O I would not be in the case of these 
church-going hypocrites for the world, for I have walk- 
ed behind them when returning from church, and have 
heard them talk about the pretty fellows, and the girls, 
and the fine things they saw there ! Why ! I spent my 
time in a rational way !" 

" Will you not allow that you have sometimes sin- 
ned 1 And how can you with the least sin appear be- 
fore a just God? What would you say in justification 
of yourself, after you had been obliged to plead guilty V 

His answer was, "If I am guilty, I would bow and 
be still ; for I would not tell a lie, which would cer- 
tainly be sinful. I should expect God to treat me as a 
school-master does a boy. The master flogs him for 
telling a lie, but assures him, that it is for the false- 
hood, and not for his previous behaviour ; for he would 
have forgiven that. But God will not make me plead 
or confess any thing, for he knows all things ; and what 
would be the use of my telling him that I am a sinner?' 

W r hen the name of Jesus was introduced, he knit his 
brows in a terrible frown ; and when asked if he be- 
lieved in Christ, evaded the subject by coughing. 



CAROLINE GRATEFUL. 165 

Not like this Deist is the negro servant of P — R— . 
He trembled with emotion when he confessed himself 
guilty before God; and after prayer said, like one 
whose soul was going out in faith to meet the Desire of 
nations, " O! he is a precious Jesus." 



September 2nd. 

Many circumstances conspire to render Caroline's 
return to the paths of virtue probable ; and particularly 
the benevolent feelings of the matron and house-phy- 
sician. A mother could not do more for a daughter, 
or iEsculapius for his sister, than is done for this young 
woman. The attempt is now faithfully making to re- 
store the fallen. The attentions which she receives 
appear to excite gratitude. In answer to some examina- 
tion into the state of her soul, she said, " I think I may 
say with Joseph concerning the enemies of my peace, 
that they meant it for evil, but God meant it for good. 
Had not God suffered me to have been afflicted, I 
might never have known him. I was one of the gayest 
of the gay, and most inconsiderate of the thoughtless. 
Now I feel an earnest desire to serve my Maker. I 
thought it the most unfavourable thing which could 
happen, to be compelled to come to this place; I 
thought it death ; but it was ordered kindly. First, I 
bless God ; and next, I am grateful to man," She con- 
tinues to feel so anxious about her mother, that the 
writer insisted on addressing a letter to her. This he 
had frequently done, but C— was unwilling to have 
her situation known, until she could appear in person 
, before her parent. 



Wa AN AFFECTING LETTER* 

September 3rd. 

My sins against man," said the weeping C — , "I feel- 
to be comparatively nothing ; it si against God that 
I have sinned, and now that is the thing which trou- 
bles me most. I hope he will forgive me ; but if not,. 
1 would wish to live a religious life/' 

A letter w r as exhibited to Her, of which the following 
is a copy l 

New- York, Sept. 0, 181 h 
MADAM, 

" One who has the feelings of a mother will be 
happy to learn, even from a stranger, the situation of 
an absent daughter. Caroline was brought to this city, 
by that base young man, who obtained leave to take 
her on a visit to his friends, in the character of his in* 
tended bride; and here, as it became a deliberate vil- 
lain, in a strange land, at the distance of some hundred 
miles from her friends, attempted to destroy his victim. 
She was in the power of one whom she loved before 
she discovered his treacherous designs, and without the 
means of escape, when, under the most insidious ex- 
cuses, and with all fair promises, he attempted to de- 
prive her of honour, peace, and every thing which can 
endear society, or support one while passing through 
the valley of the shadow of death. She did not come 
to this place and this situation with her own knowledge 
and consent; for how should she, equally a stranger to 
all the crooked paths of the world, know that she was 
going to Tsew-York, instead of P — ] 

" The snare of the fowler, I trust, is now broken, and 
the bird has escaped from his nets. Your daughtei is 



AN APPEAL TO A MOTHER'S FEELINGS. 167 

^ret alive. He could not so harden her heart as to 
make her forget you. Her tears, incessantly flowing/ 
were troublesome to his adamantine bosom, for a con- 
tinual dropping will produce some effect on the most 
obdurate substance. He therefore deserted her. Now 
she blesses his absence, and thinks she will never wil- 
lingly see his face again. He left her, impaired ia 
health, without means of support, without money to 
return to you, and with a broken heart. But the Lord 
was pleased to provide. In her sickness, her affecting 
case was made known to the benevolent, and she is 
now under the care of one who faithfully acts the part 
of a mother in counsel and care. Who this person is, 
that even weeps with Caroline in her sorrows, she may 
in due time inform you. A short time since, your 
child wept so incessantly, that we were fearful death 
would proceed from a wounded spirit. 

<f ( You must not think of sending for her at present, 
for her health will not allow her to take a journey. 
She is not, however, confined to her bed, but is in 
a state of convalescence. Tell me, would you gladly 
and kindly receive your child ? Please to return an 
answer to the writer, and she shall be made acquainted 
with it. 

**In the course of six or seven weeks, you may, possi- 
bly, receive your daughter, through the benevolence of 
Christian friends, to the embraces of that bosom which 
supported her in infancy. She wishes now to go to you 
on foot over all the rugged miles. Be contented then, 
for the present, to know, that she is duteous in affec- 
tion to her absent mother." 

After Caroline had perused the letter, the w*riter de- 
manded if he should send it. 



168 CHRIST'S RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

" If you insist upon it," was the reply. AH who were 
disposed to assist her, were persuaded, that a kind 
answer from her mother would promote her recovery. 

Q. "What is your mother's name 1" 

A. "Martha." 

Q. " Where does she reside T 

A. " She did live in G^— 11, where I was born." Of 
course the writer forwarded the letter to Mrs. M — 
S — 11, the family name of Caroline, and expects a fa- 
vourable answer. 



■*+**■+■?*•+**+■ 



September 6th. 

One ward of the Almshouse, in which I preached a 
few days ago, has lost four of its tenants since that 
time; and to-day, some of my feeble, but constant 
hearers, were found dangerously sick. Some of these 
discovered the benign influence of truth already che- 
rished, while others needed to be taught the first prin*. 
ciples of the oracles of God. 

Mrs. E— C— r sat gloomy, without complaint; 
afflicted, but not cast away; in sorrow, but not in 
despair. "Do come," she said, "and pray with me 
again on the next sabbath, for I cannot go to hear you* 
I have been long travelling through this world, but I 
think I am almost home. I confess myself a helpless 
sinner, left to the mercy of God. I've nothing to plead 
but my own guilt, and Christ's righteousness." 

No sooner had I darkened the door of that room 
which is the receptacle of the skeletons of lost females* 
than I heard a little girl at the most remote part of 
the ward, exclaim, in a tone which indicated pleasure 
commingled with pain, " Oh ! there he is again I" Pass- 
ing by many whose countenances were new fc> me, I 



EFFECTS OF SINFUL PURSUITS. 169 

approached her whose voice I had heard, because I 
thought her face familiar to me ; but I could neither 
remember her name, nor the place in which I had seen 
her. I looked her full in the face ; and she could look 
upon me no more. 

"Have I not seen you before?'' 

" Yes, Sir." 

" I do not remember where. You do not look like 
any person that I perfectly remember, and I rarely for- 
get a face." 

" You have seen me in the Hospital, Sir, and there 
I have heard you 'preach" 

" Can it be possible that yon are the once beautiful 
girl of fifteen] Was it you who made many promises 
of reformation? Is your name M — D — V 

She wept an affirmative answer. 

" How different ! how fallen, from what you then 
was ! Then you was neat ; now you are covered with 
filth. Then you was in comfortable health, and we 
had, at one time, much hope of rescuing you from your 
perilous situation ; but now you are merely the shadow 
of yourself. You are so emaciated that I did not know 
you. Do you remember my warnings T' a O yes, Sir," 
she sobbed out, " with shame I remember." 

" And in spite of all remonstrances you have pur* 
sued your old course, only to find renewed experience 
of what you well knew before, that the way of trans- 
gressors is hard ; for now your flesh and health, which 
might have been preserved, seem to be entirely gone. 
Do not think that I delight to reproach you. I pity 
you, for you are not seventeen years of age ; you are 
motherless, and I would still be the instrument of 



170 A WARNING TO YOUTH. s ' 

She could only answer by the faint hue which flut- 
tered over her wan cheek, and sunk again upon her 
withered heart, that could ill afford to part with any of 
its vital fluid, even for the blush of shame. 

In a room contiguous to this, were many persons of 
the same moral character, who requested prayers. Some 
faces were white with the bleaching of death-blasts; 
some were scarlet, in consequence of a free use of 
ardent spirits ; some were covered with sores ; some 
had lost the use of their eyes, and some had met with 
that too common calamity, the loss of the nose. Would 
to God, that the inconsiderate would reflect, for one 
moment, that libidinous indulgence is rottenness to 
the bones ! I have seen a case, in w hich I verily believe, 
that my hand could have wrung the limbs asunder; 
and in another case, the bones of the head were so 
affected, that, at the moment of death, the skull of a 
full grown man burst asunder, and his brains gushed 
out. In such horrid descriptions I have no delight: 
but let the youth, who tampers with temptation, beware 
of taking the leap into that abyss whence few return. 

After I had conversed with M — B— , who affords 
renewed hope that she is a daughter of Sarah by faith, 
a young woman of full, broad face, blue eyes, and 
Scotch dialect, wished to speak to me. Of this person 
Burns might have sung, in his tenderest strains, to the 
"mountain daisy:" 

" Such is the fate of artless maid, 
Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade ! 
By love's simplicity betray "d, 

In guileless trust, 
Till she, like thee, all spoil'd, U 

Low i' the d- r.- 



OBDURACY OF THE HUMAN HEART. 171 

When the writer approached, she discovered great 
agitation, and it was long before she could say, " Oh ! 
Sir, I have a hard, hard heart : it will not break : it will- 
not break." 

" God can break the hard heart, and make it soft ; 
he can wash the foulest, and make it clean/' 

" Oh! but I fear he will not. I hnow he can, but 
I have been so vile, that he will not. He will leave 
me to perish in my sins. My heart will not submit: 
I cannot bear to die !" 

" Does the hope of worldly pleasure make you wish 
to continue on the earth?" 

" Oh, no! no! but since I have devoted the morn- 
ing of my existence to sin^ 1 want to live, that I may 
lead a different life, and go again to that Church 
which I have dishonoured." 

" I presume that you are of Scotch-Irish extrac- 
tion ¥' 

" Yes, Sir, and I have more* to answer for than 
those who surround me, because I have been well in- 

structed. I was accustomed to attend Dr. L 's 

church ; I was taught the way of life, but now my 
heart will not submit. I cannot tell you how vile I 
am." 

" That is very true; for who can understand his 
errors? Who but God can tell how vile any one is?'' 

" Oh ! I am a thousand times worse than I can 
think. I cannot tell you how 1 feel. My heart rejects 
and buffets, and hates the Lord Jesus Christ: but O, 
I ivish that he would break it" 

Such anguish of spirit I never witnessed before, noi- 
ls it easy to conceive of stronger convictions of the ob- 
duracy of the human heart than she manifested, " I am 
P 2 



172 THE PRIDE OF HUMILITY. 

nothing but pollution from the beginning, from my 
original" was the burden of her complaint. It was 
admitted that all which she said of her own iniquity 
was true, while she was reminded, that those who 
doubt the divine disposition and ability to save, ac- 
count God a liar. Mercy was renewed ly proffered, but 
she would not be comforted. The knowledge which 
this person, A — T — , possesses, in religious matters, 
is truly surprising. She seems to have been a systema- 
tic theologist from her childhood. The confessions of 
sin, which are frequently made, are various. Once a 
woman, with all the pride of humility reigning in her 
heart, came to her clergyman, and said, " Sir, I am a 
vile sinner, I feel that I am one of the greatest hypo- 
crites in the world." With a countenance almost as 
much disfigured as her own, the minister replied, " So 
you are, good woman f whereupon she turned away, 
saying in a tone of exasperation, "You lie, I a'n't ! ,; 
The confessions of A— T— are not of this descrip- 
tion. 

The young man who disowns his wife has so far 
recovered as to have been carried from the Hospital to 
a boarding-house. Those who were fellow-patients 
with him inform me that his injured wife called to see 
him before his departure, but he rewarded her kindness 
with contempt, and said, that of all women she was 
most odious to him. Sinners, who have neither the 
conscience nor honour to repair an injury, commonly 
hate those most whom they have most abused. " A ly- 
ing tongue hateth those that are afflicted by it." Prov. 
xxvi. 28. 

The deist, whose case was stated on the 30th of 
August last, is probably sealed unto perdition. He told 



THE DECAYED DOOK-KEEPER. 173 

some young friends, who paid him a visit, that when 
he was dead, he should go to hell, and would stand at 
the door, to call them in, when they came along that 
way, that he might have the pleasure of raking open 
the coals of the bottomless pit, to warm them. This 
is only a specimen of the impiety of this dying man. 



September 12th, 

"I HAD rather be a door-keeper in the house of my 
God than to dwell in the tents of wickedness/' This 
is, undoubtedly, the sentiment of every pious heart. 
Nevertheless, a door-keeper of a church of God is 
compelled, by poverty, to take up his residence in the 
Hospital. " You will please to pray with us, before 
you go/' said a tall man of venerable appearance, " for 
I am glad to meet you here/'' His manner was winning, 
and his long hair, neatly combed, was all white with 
winter. Well do I remember with what alacrity he 
unfolded the doors of a church for me, and made all 
necessary preparation for public worship. I knew him 
to be a Christian, and wondered at finding him in an 
institution of public charity. The truth was found to 
be, that having become too feeble, from an accidental 
injury, to perform the duties of his office, and support 
his aged wife, he concluded to seek for health where 
he could enjoy the means without expense to himself. 
The church to which he belongs is rather embarrassed 
in pecuniary matters ; and the Lord be praised that the 
Hospital is open to all of every nation ; to those who 
have money, and to those who have none. It rarely 
contains, however, such a combination of dignity, po- 
verty, and piety, as are found in this Irishman, 

P 3 



174 LEWDNESS THE WAY TO DEATH, 

A— T— remains in the same state of body and 
mind. Her mental anguish is unutterable. If — B — 
and M — D — - were seated on a bed together, beside 
their agonizing companion. The first I exhorted to 
instruct the second ; for both have tasted the bitter 
cup of transgression, but one has much more know- 
ledge than the other. The reader may wish to learn 
something of M— D — 's history. When health re- 
turned to her in the Hospital, she became insensible 
to past wickedness and misery. While remaining there, 
that some place of residence might be found for her, 
cr some occupation procured, she became acquainted 
with a young man whose conduct and situation had 
been similar to her own. He promised, on leaving the 
Institution, to become her protector. Accordingly, when 
he was ready to depart, she eloped, and they met, to 
reside in the suburbs. His protection was of short 
duration ; his money was soon gone ; she returned to 
the practice of Corinth, and multiplied abominations, 
more than her sisters, Samaria and Sodom. Extreme 
sickness was the result ; and having lodged for a few 
sights in a cellar with blacks, she was brought to the 
Almshouse. The way of lewdness is the shortest way 
to helh 



Sepiemher 13th. 

Mrs. M — S — , who was introduced to the readers 
acquaintance on the 162nd page of this work, has 
rapidly declined for several days past; and at length 
has fallen a^ep, Her eldest child, a daughter, is at 
service, and maintains her youngest sister, who canrjct 



DECENT BURIAL DESIRABLE. 175 

be more than three years of age. The second daughter 
was taken under the care of the matron of the Hospital, 
who has procured an excellent situation in the country, 
where the child will be kept from much of the evil that 
is in the world. The eldest son is a young man, who 
has gone to sea, and her other child is a lad of nine 
years, who lives with the cobler. The good mother 
had a few anxieties before death, which were not un- 
amiable. She could not close her eyes until some one 
had promised to be a guardian to each of her helpless 
orphans^ In addition to this, she obtained a promise 
from her eldest daughter, that her body should be 
deposited in one of the grave yards of her church. It 
seems no more than reasonable, that the richest church 
in America should give her poor saints their last bed ; 
for there is something pleasing to most persons, in the 
thought of having their dust gathered to the ashes of 
their fathers. At any rate, if this be a weakness, it is 
not censurable, and Rebecca gave her mother the pro- 
mise, which she punctually fulfilled. With composure,, 
with hope, the fond mother went to rest, where the 
wicked cease from troubling. 



September 14fA. 

For three or four days and nights Caroline has wept 
almost incessantly. Something gives her great uneasi- 
ness, when any one speaks of her mother. If her grief 
should continue, she will never meet her forsaken 
parent. 

The young man, who promised to protect an un- 
guarded boy, to-day sought his charge, at the poor cob- 
ler's cellar, but could not find him. Last night he 



176 THE AFFLICTED WIDOW. 

was there, but where he was when his guardian sougkt 
him none could say ; for how could a labouring man 
watch a playful child ] He was sought in the street*, 
but could not be found. Night and hunger will pro- 
bably bring him home; for these regulate hundreds, 
who experience no other government. 

At the request of Mrs. P — R — , the writer visited a 
poor widow of the city. Her husband has been dead 
two years. She has six children ; the eldest of whom 
is fifteen years of age, and can afford considerable as- 
sistance. About three months ago, a son of seven years 
was taken sick with the small-pox. For seven weeks 
the widow paid such attention to this lad, that she did 
not once, during that time, sleep with her clothes off. 
The child died ; and the mother, through debility and 
a severe cold, was immediately confined to her bed, 
from which she may never arise. When I entered, the 
breakfast-table with its scanty furniture was standing 
beside her bed, and the daughter was preparing some 
tea* She insisted on having the table removed, for the 
present, saying that " to hear religious conversation and 
unite in prayer is better than daily food." The only 
chair in the room afforded me a seat beside her, while her 
daughter stood by the fire, and at my back was posted 
a young jnan in mean attire. 

w I never thought of religion, Sir," she said, a until 
my child died. Since that, many ladies come here to 
see me, and talk about Christ ; and O, it comforts my 
heart. I bless God that he is so good to me, in sending 
friends." 

She confessed her exceeding sinfulness in every thing, 
but particularly mourned her past neglect of the sab- 
bath and public worship. Now, might God permit, 



THE BEST OF BOOKS. 177 

she * would gladly crawl on her hands and knees along 
the streets to any church, and should think herself 
happy if she could get even to the nearest methodist 
prayer meeting" 

David desired in sickness restoration, that he might 
visit the sanctuary ; " But, good woman, the Gospel is 
brought nigh to you. It is proclaimed in your chamber. 
Here the Lord Jesus assures you that he is able and 
willing to save, and that none who come to him shall be 
rejected." 

" That I know, Sir, and in that I rejoice, for the 
tcord of God teaches me. Christ is all the hope of 
my poor heart. That young man (she pointed to the 
one behind me,) lives near this, and when he comes in 
every day, I get him to read two or three chapters to 
me. 0, I've got a bible, Sir : Mr. S — brought it to 
me. It is a fine book !" 

"May the reading do the young man good." " O, 
Sir," she rejoined, " I hope it will break his heart, and 
then he will turn from sin. There's nothing like it. It 
will break the heart." 

Her anxiety for him seemed to pierce him ; for the 
poor young labourer was solemn and silent, 



&*>*+S^MJ>^f^ 



September \hth. 



Mr. Roome, the present superintendent of the 
State's Prison, in which I preached to-day, related the 
following anecdote. 

Not long since two persons were in this place of con- 
finement, who gave satisfactory evidence that they were 



173 BLESSED EFFECTS OF RELIGION*. 

truly converted to God. Mc Donald, who was com- 
mitted for horse-stealing, first became an exemplary 
man, and lodged in the room with one Johnson. This 
man was committed for forgery, and after a long con- 
finement, attempted to make his escape by leaping from 
the wall. Previously to this attempt, he had conducted 
like an altered man; and even a Christian might be in- 
duced to believe, that escape from penalty, where it is 
possible, after long infliction of it, is no crime. In the 
act of leaping, he burst an artery of his leg, and morti- 
fication followed. Sensible of the near approach of 
death, he desired to speak with his old room-mate. The 
keeper brought Mc D — into his presence, when the 
dying man said, with tender familiarity, " Well, Mac, I 
am going to die, and I wanted to discharge a debt of 
gratitude. I owe you everlasting thanks, for had ft not 
been for your exertions and example, I should not have 
known any thing of Christ. I could not die in peace 
without confessing to you, that when you and I came to 
live in the same room, I hated you because you was 
religious. When you talked to me, I wished that you 
would hold your tongue ; and often, when you read the 
bible or prayed at night, 1 used to put my handkerchief 
over my head and stop my ears; but finally, the more I 
strove against your religion, the more it worked on me. 
In short, I had no peace until I took to praying too, 
Now I thank God that I can die in comfort. I bless 
God for your instructions, with my dying breath." After 
this he spoke in sublime strains of the pleasures of par- 
doned sin, prayed in a loud voice with the keeper and 
Mc. D — , and immediately died. He was thirty-seven 
years of age; and not long after, in his forty-first year- 



LINES BY A PRISONER. 



Wd 



followed Mc Donald, whose death was tranquil, and 
even triumphant. 

The reader* will be gratified with some of this last 
person's writing. With a few slight alterations in a few 
words, but none in the sense, I shall present 

A COPY 



OP VERSES WRITTEN BY MR. MC DONALD WHILE IN PRISON.* 



John 1.17. &8. 32. & 14. 6. 

James 5. 1 — 6. 

Luke 12. 20. & 21. 

Ecclesiastes 2. 1 — 13. 

1 Cor. 1. 21—30. Col 2. 3. 

James 4. S. 

Matt. 7. 7. 

Gal. ». 5. John 14. 13, 14. 

Prov. S. 9. 

2 Cor. 4.3. 

1 Cor. 2. 14. 

Rom. 12,2. Eph. 4. 23. Col. 3. 10. 

1 Cor. 3. 18. 

James 1. 5, 6. 

John 16. 24. Jer. 50. 4, 5. 

1 John 3. 22, 23. 

Rdm. 5.1. Ps. 119.165. Phil. 4. 6,7. 

Isaiah 26. 3, 4. 

1 Cor. 10. 13. Prev. 3. 21—25. 

Isaiah 5S. 11. Luke 1. 79. 

Col. U 2, 7. 

JohnS. 32, 36. Gal. 5.1. 

Isa.25. 7. 2 Cor. 3. 13—18. 

Rom. 8. 1.21. 



I. 

Ye busy minds, that seek for truth, 
Must own that pleasure, pelf, or pain^ 
Are sure rewards in early youth, 
And all that man in life can gain: 
Unless to wisdom he should cry, 
Should by the Spirit strive to move, 
And call the blest Redeemer nigh, 
To grant that faith which works by love. 

II. 

The Bible's precepts all are plain, 
And right, to them that knowledge find; 
But nat'ral tongues can ne'er explain, 
Unless the Lord renew the mind. 
Become a fool, if you'll be wise, 
And wisdom seek from God above : 
Then ask of him. he'll not despise, 
But freely grant his pardoning love. 

III. 

O then, sweet peace, to conscience dear, 
Will make her kind abode with thee, 
And through this rugged path will steer, 
Thy bark from ev'ry danger free. 
No doubts shall in thy bosom rise, 
For God in Christ has made thee free, 
The vail has taken from thine eyes, 
To walk in gospel liberty. 



* Mc D states, that he was induced to write these lines, 

by listening to different teachers, examining many denominations 
of Christians, and finding, to his surprise and alarm, that many 
swerve from the scriptures of truth, " which contain the divine 
mysteries of God," 



180 



AN ELEGY. 



' Matt. 5. 6. 

Luke 6. 21. 

Johu 4.10, U. & 6. 35. & T. 37, S8. 

Isa. 58. 4r. 

John 1. 12. 

1 John 3. 1, 2. 

TitU9 2. 13, 14. Heb. 12. 2. 

IPet, 1.19. 

John 6. 29. 

John3. 14— 18. 

John 6. 35—53. 

Isa. 33*15, 16. Rev. 2. 17. 

Eph. 5. 26. 

Johnl. 1. Col.2.9t 

Rev. 19. 13. Eph. 3. 14—20. 

Luke 13.24. Jam.4.3.Heb.ll.6. 

Rom. 5.1. Eph. 2.13.18. 

2 Pet. 1. 10. 

Rev. 6. 16, 17. Heb. 2. 3,12, 25. 

Isa. 45.21. John 14.27. 

Luke 2. 3—33. Acts 4. 12. 

Rom. 10. 17. Eph. 3.17. 

2 Cor. 9.15. Heb. 13. 12. 



IV. 

If any thirst for righteousness* 
Or hunger for the bread of lifa, 
Christ fills their souls with happiness I 
Nor shall they drink ungodly strife. 
All, who believe upon his name, 
Are justly styl'd the sons of God : 
By faith and hope they trust in him, 
Who made atonement with his blood*. 

V. 

Christ says this is the work of God, 
T' believe on him whom God hath sent ; 
To eat his flesh, and drink his blood. 
By faith you'll see what bread he meant i 
The waters are the word of God, 
To sanctify and cleanse the soul ; [word, 
And scripture proves that Christ's the 
Which truly comprehends the whole* 

VI. 

Then let us strive, and long endure, 
By faith to make our peace with God'i 
Our calling' and election Sure, 
And thus escape his wrathful rod. 
The Lord is just. In Christ there's peace. 
And that salvation which we praise ; 
O may our faith and love increase, 
And God receive ihe songs we raise. 



On the back of the paper, which contains the fore- 
going performance, the author has said, " Whosoever 
will peruse the within passages of scripture, with the 
same attention with which I have selected them, will not 
fail of reaping a due reward from that gracious Bene- 
factor, whose mercy endured to all generations." 

By the same Prisoner, who conceived himself to have 
been convicted by false-witnesses. 

You who can spare one moment's timc 5 
And listen to a true complaint, 
Will do! accuse me of a crime, 
Nor think me void of just restraint, 



THE ELEGY. 181 

Waen you consider well the eause 
Of cruelty which I denounce : 
For not against the wholesome laws 
Would I an evil word pronounce. 

But fate, at whose decrees we guess, 
By evil and designing men, 
Has cast me into sore distress, 
Like some wild monster in a den ; 
Opprest with solitude and thought, 
Which cause my mind full oft to roam, 
And ruminate their wiles that brought 
Me to this sad, uncourtly home. 

Here months, to me like days untold, 
Pass o'er my head with strong regress j 
Samaritans cannot behold, 
But Priests and Levites daily pass. 
Like Pharaoh's butler, one did say, 
" Alas ! I have you long forgot, 
" And do recall my fault this day ;" 
But to relieve me hastened not. 

Divided from all friendship dear, 
For wife and children here I grieve : 
In solemn, secret, fervent pray'r, 
I seek to him who can relieve ; 
W^ell knowing that the arm of man, 
Though bound by xmths in solemn trustj 
Will deviate from virtue's plan, 
And leave me hopeless in the dust. 

When I am far remov'd from hence, 
And once that common debt is paid, 
My false accusers must come thence, 
Before the Judge of quick and dead: 
There no false pleadings can be heard, 
Nor silver tears commend a man : 
That God who only must be fear'd, 
Will work his just and upright plan, 

2 



182 CRUEL ENVY, 

Then shall the wicked turn to hell, 
With all the blind that know not God? 
No parasite shall then excel, 
Nor splendid pomp relief afford ; 
Pure faith and love shall ornament 
The bearer's head as with a crown, 
And I no longer shall lament, 
Nor earthly monarchs on me frown. 



September 16tk* 

Man, who cannot search the heart, must often be 
influenced in his conduct by the outward appearance, 
Judging from what the human eye cau discover, there 
has been more reason to indulge the hope of reclaiming 
Caroline, than any one of her companions. She has, 
therefore, received more attention in the Hospital 'than 
any one cf her class ever enjoyed there before. All 
persons concerned in the immediate care of the patients 
seem to have conspired for her restoration. This has 
given some of the inhabitants of her ward great offence, 
and they seek to find satisfaction by tormenting her. 
The motives which dictated the following letter, which 
was given to Caroline by the matron, will appear from 
the perusal. 

" New-York, September 16th, 1811. 
CAROLINE, 

" Your situation is indeed a faying one. You need 
consolation, and I regret that the malevolence of those 
unhappy women, with whom you are confined, should 
render it necessary for me to speak to you in particular, 
less frequently than I could wish. Their opinion of my 
attention is nothing to me; but I am unwilling that you 



THE FRIENDLY EPISTLE. 183 

should experience from them needless persecution. 
Would to God that they were as desirous of instruction 
and as grateful for kindness as you appear to be. You 
must patiently bear their scoffs, for you have fallen into 
their society; but if they call you a hypocrite, that will 
not make you one. See that you finally prove your 
sincerity. You must expect reproach for your past 
sins, from those who know nothing of penitence ; and 
you perceive in their unkindness, that the unrenewed 
heart is ever opposed to the merciful Redeemer. An 
abandoned woman is neither willing to enter the king- 
dom of heaven herself, nor pleased that others should 
be saved. Let your wicked room-mates continue to say 
that " you will soon elope with the parson or doctor/' 
because we seek your salvation. Regard them not, ex- 
cept it be to pray for their conviction and conversation. 
Were they disposed to receive assistance, we should as 
gladly proffer it to them as to you. Receive from us 
this assurance, that so long as you continue to maintain 
the humility, penitence, and spirit of new obedience, 
which we think are manifest in you, we will act the part 
of friends. If God preserves our lives, you shall not 
from necessity be cast out to the contempt and misery 
of the world. Should you die in the Hospital, your 
body shall be interred with respect; but should you re- 
cover and be rejected by your relatives, some occupation 
shall be provided, which will yield you the means of 
comfortable and reputable subsistence. Be of good 
courage ; the Lord will provide. To him you are 
indebted for all those circumstances which elevate you 
above many of your fallen fellow-sinners. If you are 
truly penitent, it is God who has pierced your soul with 
arrows of conviction; who has slain you by the law, 

Q 2 



184 NEEDFUL CAUTIONS. 

that you may live by the gospel, to the praise of Christ's 
righteousness ; and who has made the blood of his graci- 
ous covenant precious to your soul. Remember, then, 
that with Ggc) there is mercy, that he may be feared, 
and trusted too. 

" It is not time, calculating on the usual delay of 
country post-offices, to expect a letter from your mother; 
but so soon as I receive one you shall know its contents. 
In the mean time, seek to compose your mind by the 
consideration that Jesus died to save sinners. Do noj 
read too much, for your mind becomes confused, and 
you aerive no advantage. Young persons, when anxious 
to know the way of life, commonly fall into this error. 
They read much, and think little. It is as much your 
duty, at proper seasons, to compose yourself for sleep, 
as at other times to pray. Above all things, receive the 
testimony of God, concerning his Son, that he sent him 
into the world to save the chief of sinners. Not to be- 
lieve this, so as to trust in God for pardon and accept- 
ance through the righteousness of Jesus Christ, is nothing 
less than to make God a liar. If you wish instruction 
on any subject, which I do not explain in my general 
discourse in your ward, you need not fear to express 
your wish to one, who feels his own need of pardon. 
May God bless you ; for I hope that with him is mercy 
for you." 

Before the above letter was presented, it was read, 
and assented to, by the House-Physician, whose skill 
and benevolence do honour to his understanding and 
heart.* 

* In this place the writer begs leave to tender his gratitude to 
Messrs. Tappen and Inderwick of the Hospital, and Mr. 
Anderson of the Almshouse, not only for their polite atten- 



THE DUTIFUL DAUGHTER. 185 

September \Sth. 

Through the compassion and instrumentality of 
Mrs. B — , some necessary articles of dress for Caroline 
were procured from the wardrobe of the Dorcas 
Society. 

On the 16th instant, the son of Mrs. M — S — was 
found by the young man who was engaged to do the 
best he could for the child, and led to the Almshouse 
It was contemplated that he should board there, and 
attend the free-school of Trinity Church, until some- 
thing better could be provided for him. When the 
lad's case was stated to the superintendent, and especially 
when the information was given, that the father of the 
child was a drunkard, who had paid his children no at- 
tention for two years, the tears fell rapidly from the 
eyes of the boy, who was more affected at his father's 
wickedness than his mother's death. 

To-day the boy called on his guardian, and requested 
him to visit Rebecca. The dutiful daughter, who had 
performed the task of a hired servant by day, and 
watched with her dying mother by night, was found in 
the kitchen of a porter-house, making, or rather alter- 
ing garments for her sister. Since the death of the 
mother, Rebecca had been sick from unusual fatigue. 
She was now better, but pale, and the little girl of three 
years made her appearance, with a clean face, and hang 
. on her sister's skirt. 

iions to him : but for their fidelity to the sick under their care. 
These ^oung practitioners in the healing art are gentlemen of ex- 
cellent understanding, amiable manners, and moral principle, who 
promise to be the future ornaments of their profession, and some 
of the most useful members of society. 

Q 3 



186 THE AFFECTIONATE SISTER. 

" Well, Rebecca, I suppose you have some request to 
make. Speak freely, for I promised your good mother 
to assist you, so far as I am able/' 

She hesitated, and blushed : the boy sat him down in 
the corner and sobbed ; but she finally stated that her 
little brother came home dissatisfied with his situation. 
For two nights past he had been put into a bed which 
contained five boys besides himself. They considered 
him a stranger, and kicked him out. The boys used 
profane language, were dirty, and he could not endure 
the thought of living there. " You have done so 
much, Sir, that 1 dare not make any request/' said 
Rebecca, " but — ~ ' 

" But what 1 He shall go home with me, for the pre- 
sent* What did the funeral of your mother cost youT 
The fees for the ground, the sexton's services, &c. 
amounted to ten dollars ; of which she had paid five, 
and was now working to discharge the remainder of thfc 
debt. 

" It is enough for you to provide for yourself and 
little sister." The young man paid the five dollars 
which were due; as an Episcopal perquisite; and the 
body of M — S— sleeps in peace, while her spirit rests 
in hope of a glorious resurrection. 

The reader will undoubtedly agree with the writer in 
opinion, that each Christian Church ought to bury the 
bodies of her poor members, the Bishop's salary to the 
contrary notwithstanding; besides affording support to 
the orphan children which have been baptized within 
her temples. 

* It is understood, that this lad received assistance, when al- 
most nak^d, and without shoes, in the frosty weather of October 
following, from the president of the Dorcas Society, Mrs. J. B. 



A SEASONABLE HINT. 107 

Had the present Assistant Bishop know their'circutn- 
stances, it is certain, from the benevolence of his 
character, that he would have given assistance to the 
fatherless. May it not be presumed, that in future the 
large funds of the Trinity Church will afford a grave for 
those at least, who are in full communion with her, and 
die in poverty? Before she builds any more churches 
abroad, will she not make provision for the guardianship 
of all her helpless children ? I am persuaded that 
Bishop Hobart and the Vestry will enlarge their 
establishment of a Charity School, until it shall bear 
some proportion to their funds, and to the number of 
their baptized children- Hitherto the provision made 
by the Reformed Dutch, Presbyterian, and Methodist 
churches in this city, has been much more ample, in 
proportion to their destitute children. The good 
among the Episcopalians will not blush to take an 
example from their Presbyterian neighbours. 



September 22?id. 

In descending the stairs of the Almshouse, the Irish 
woman met me, of whom I have before given some 
account. She had in her hands two pails of water, 
which her feeble frame could scarcely support ; for she 
is still pale, thin, neat, and humble. Setting them down, 
she said in a manner which invited condolence, " Ah, 
Sir! and I have lost my little child; the youngest 



R — and Mrs. P. W- - , who deligiU in doing good to the poor of 
every denomination. She who gives a cup of cold water to the 
thirsty, from love to Jesus, shall in no wise lose her reward. 



188 INFANT SALVATION. 

" Possibly," said 1, " God may have taken away 
your infant son from the evil to come. Possibly God 
has taken him to a better world, and made him glorious 
in Christ. Had the child lived, it might have become 
miserably wicked. That infants are saved, we have 
presumptive evidence, for Jesus said, "Of such is the 
kingdom of heaven ;" and again, " It is not the will of 
your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little 
ones should perish. " These sentences were uttered 
when little children were in Christ's presence; and al- 
though the last comprehends all persons who become, 
from conversion, like little children, yet there is reason 
to believe that he intended to be literally understood. 
"The kingdom of God/' of which infants are said to be 
members, must imply, either the church on earth, or 
the church in heaven, or both. If they belong to both, 
or to the church above, their salvation is positively 
asserted : but if they belong to the church on earth, it 
is probable that they will not, when taken away in in- 
fancy, fail of eternal life. 

" David comforted himself, when he said concerning 
the child of Bathsheba, "I shall go to it;" and assuredlj 
he did not expect to meet the child in hell. Of one 
thing, at least, you may be certain, that God doth 
not willingly afflict nor grieve the children of men. 
Remember, that if God has taken away one child, he 
has preserved three." 

She answered, "Indeed he has, Sir, but they are 
sickly." 

Soon after this woman's recovery, I saw her near the 
battery. The chiid which is now dead was then in 
her arms, and the other three were standing beside her. 
All of them were sickly, in appearance, like the plants 



GRATITUDE FOR MERCIES. 189 

which suffer for the want of air and light. In this 
situation she remained nearly half the day, in expec- 
tation of seeing her husband. He was on board The 
President, a ship at anchor in the river, and she had 
sent a request to see him, by one of the naval officers. 
It was her design to obtain of him half his pay, that 
she might leave the Almshouse, and support her chil- 
dren. "Could we live," said the woman, " in the fresh 
air, we should be well again." The husband came not; 
and weakness with hunger drove her back to languish 
with the multitude. 

Before I commenced the public worship of the even- 
ing, an aged woman said, with weeping, which con- 
tinued during the whole service, " The conflicts of a 
poor sinner are very many and great in this life ; and 
especially those which arise from our own wickedness." 

Blind Sofa, who has lately been severely troubled 
about the concerns of her soul, was led to the preacher, 
by her request, after sermon, and with out-stretched 
hands said, "OA/ you pe de man: God send ycuto 
me; God pless you, dear man. He do pless you : he 
pless you to de soul of poor sinner/' If this is the 
truth, i;and when I think of the divine power and grace 
I cannot doubt it,) it is the preacher who has the most 
occasion to bless the Lord, saying, "Not unto me; not 
unto me, O Lord ; but to thy name and the atonement 
of Christ be all the glory." 



++*^j-* +*■** •*■ 



September 24th. 

A duplicate of the letter to Mrs. M — S — 11 was 
to-day forwarded, with a note to the post-master in 



100 AN INTERESTING PATIENT. 

G— 11, which entreated him to ascertain if any such 
person as was addressed could be found in the vicinity 
of his office. She must be dead, or has removed, or 
there is some deception in the affair. 

Yesterday died in the Almshouse, A — T — , the 
well-informed Scotch- Irish girl, who said to her misera- 
ble companions, a few moments before she expired, w If 
Jesus is ready to receive me, I am ready to die." 

A few days since, departed also the maiden lady 
who protected the soldier. Better was the day of her 
death than of her birth. 



September 21tk. 

In the Almshouse, a female only fifteen years of 
age, a native of Ireland, who has lately heard the writer 
preach, desired to converse with him. She had been 
observed to weep, and to-day her tears fell on the face 
of a sweet infant which slumbered on her lap. It was 
fair and round, like its little mother; who, unfortunate 
thing ! was sold and deceived. Not twelve months ago, 
she and her parents arrived in this country, and were 
sold for their passage. This child, then thoughtless, 
was pui chased by a young countryman, who pretended 
to love her, and finally deserted her, 

" pusb'd her from shore, 

" And launch'd her into life without an oar." 

She was so deeply afriicted in soul, that she could 
say but little ; and I left her without knowing to what 
question in particular she desired an answer. 

The greater part of persons, when seduced from the 
path of virtue, are very young. I have just prayed in 



HOPE IN DEATH. 191 

the ward in which A — T — died, and saw in one nar- 
row bed two blooming females, one of whom had lived 
fifteen, and the other only thirteen suns. 



September 29th. 

This morning Richard Neal, of whom some account 
was givea Aug. 19, departed this life for a better. He 
possessed but little knowledge, yet it was of the right 
kind, it was evangelical, it was practical* Extreme 
pain of body, long continued, he bore without repining, 
with truly Christian fortitude. Concerning this black 
man, the mighty might say, the honourable and the 
affluent might say, "Let us die the death of the justified 
person, and let our last end be like his.'' 

The young mother listened to the word of God, 
with much apparent contrition, and profound atten- 
tion. 

An aged man, who cannot live but a few days, and 
who will perhaps die in a few hours, said, on my 
approach to his bed, " / am all but in the eternal 
world: I am on the verge of time and eternity: out 
my conscience is at peace with Gorf, and I am per* 
fectly quiet about myself" 

" Do you think then," it was demanded* " that you 
have no sin?" 

" No, no! that's not my meaning; but God has 
pardoned me, and given me peace through the Lord 
Jesus Christ, and that's the reason I say my con- 
science is quiet, lam going to the eternal worlds and 
I wish your prayers* I wish the prayers of all God's 
people." 



192 THE UNHAPPY LUNATIC. 

We addressed the throne of grace together ; and 
then he resumed the conversation, which continued in 
a solemn and rational strain for some time. Not a 
thought of his being a lunatic entered my mind, until 
I was leaving him; when, putting a paper into my 
hands, he said, " I die in peace with men : I wish them 
all well, and hope God will forgive them, but I wish 
the world to know how I came to the Almshouse." 
The writing, which has this title, " Villany unpunished/' 
and which states, that in 1797 he was robbed of his 
personal property and real estate, by some of the most 
respectable citizens, he desired me to present to the 
Governor of the state. The writing concludes with these 
words : " Now r , fellow-citizens, I am thankful to you 
for all the hospitable institutions that you have provided 
for all them that labour under distressing circumstances, 
but I have to regret that I have been swiudled out of 
my property, and kept out of it until this time, being 
September 17th, 1811, which renders me an object for 
the Almshouse." 

Gratitude may occupy a mind partially deranged ; 
and if piety exists previously to insanity, we ought not 
to suppose that the severe judgment warrants any un- 
favourable conclusion concerning the soul's condition in 
the future life. 



*s* ■* •*£>*■+*■* *■■* -0 



October bth. 



Caroline is afflicted with a new, but not disgrace- 
ful complaint, which requires surgical assistance. She 
cannot bear any cc : tisation about her mother. To 
augment her troubles, the women attempt to make her 



A YOUNG SAILOR SEEKING INSTRUCTION. 193 

believe that she will be sent to the Almshouse, among 
the incurable persons. 

I told an aged sailor, whose flesh has vanished, and 
of whom little remains but skin and bones, what I 
thought of his situation ; for I feel bound to warn the 
dying of their danger, even at the expence of my own 
feelings and their approbation. Religious instruction 
had no more visible effect than is produced by the 
wind upon polished marble. There was nothing which 
evinced life ; no, not a shrub, nor even moss upon the 
rock, which could be moved. He asserted that he 
prayed in his thoughts; but when the nurse asked him 
if the minister should pray with him, he answered, 
"No." 

Since the 19th of June, I have had frequent inter- 
course with the young sailor who was excited to reli- 
gious inquiry, by my conversation with H— oift Now 
he is almost as white as a sheet, and the writer said, 
" Friend, you cannot regain your wonted colour." 

" No, Sir: and I fear I never shall, for I grow 
weak. But still I hope to recover ." 

" You must be prepared for death at all times, for it 
will come when God sends it." 

" It is my daily prayer, that I may he ready ; and 
I want to hear you preach again, but my cough pre- 
vents me from hearing, and would disturb others. 7 * 

" Then you must read the Bible, for that contains 
the gospel." 

" / did till lately : but now my eyes are so dim, 
that after I have read two or three lines, it is all like 
one word." 

'•'Then others must read to you, and you must pray 
It gives me pleasure to find any sinner willing to 



194 AK ABANDONED FEMALE, 

pray ; but I asked one of the patients below, if fee 
prayed, and he — " 

" Aye, Sir ! all the sick will tell you that they pray, 
and I hope they do ; hut if they don't pray in heart, 
it arit good for nothing, I take it J' 

" Are you not ashamed to talk so much about reli- 
gion, before your acquaintance] Do not some of them 
laugh at you V 

" Why, they tell me I am growing mighty good, 
but I wish I was. If I could be really a Christian, 
it an f t I that would care what they say J' 



'•++•++.**■*■'>*■+■+* 



October 20th. 



u Evil men and seducers shall wax worse and 
worse, deceiving and being deceived." 2 Tim. iii. 13. 
There is a regular progression of sinful men from bad 
to worse. An obdurate offender once said, that he 
should melt no sooner than his companions in the focus 
of divine wrath ; and a man whom I have often re- 
proved, has told me repeatedly, and with solemnity, 
too, " That he expected to go to hell ; but this was his 
consolation, that he could endure the fierceness of 
God's wrath as well as any man, for he was tough as 
any damned^being." A woman, (yes, a woman !) of this 
description I have seen to-day, who is infected, but 
says that " she has been seven years in the professional 
business, has never been caught before; and, since she 
took up her trade to get a living, she is determined to 
die in it.'' 



A HEART-RENDING SCENE. 1» 

October 21th\ 

Ever since the 13th instant, George has been sick, 
and our psalmody indifferent ; but to-day he resumed 
his office. During his fever I frequently visited and 
assisted him ; and now he has arisen to reward me, by 
affording pleasure to the congregation of the poor. 

+* *•* *■* r--r *^f * •* 

October 28rt. 

While I was speaking to one of the lost females of 
the Hospital, another said, " Mr. E— -, Mr. E— , I warit 
to speak with you." 

Her dying body was so offensive as to give great dis- 
quiet to the organs of sense; but I drew near, and 
asked, " What do you wish %" 

"I've been long wishing to speak with you/' she 
said, but could not proceed. Her face was so thin., 
that when the nerves and muscles were affected by that 
emotion which commonly produces weeping, it was 
covered with wrinkles, and looked horribly grim. She 
could not weep, for the fountains were ail dry. Before 
I left her, she said, " O pray, pray for—" 

if For what shall I pray V 

" That God would bring me into his everlasting 
salvation" 



October 30th: 

Yesterday I visited again the dying prostitute, 
and every individual of her room seemed afflicted by 
her distress, Her body is literally consumed, while 

R 2 



196 AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION. 

her life remains. To-day Dr. P — went with me to 
the Hospital, and offered prayers in four rooms. We 
saw the young woman again, and this dialogue fol- 
lowed. 

Dr. P. " Have you any hope J* 

Pros. " Some feeble hope, Sir/' 

Dr. P. " Well, and what is the ground of your 
hope?' 

Pros. " The Lord Jesus Christ/' 

Dr. P. " Where is he now ?' 

Pros. "In heaven/' 

Dr. P. " What is he doing there ¥ 

Pros. " Glorifying God, his Father/' 

Dr. P. " Yes, and interceding for perishing sin- 
ners/' 

Pros. " O, I hope he pleads for me !" 

Dr. P. " You need not fear to trust him, for he died 
for sinners ; and he says, * Come unto me, all ye that 
labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." 
The Doctor added many similar quotations, to her great 
encouragement. 



August 29th. 

Rebecca, who buried her mother, has lately been 
married to a young and reputable man, a currier, 
to whom she was engaged before the death @f her 
parent. 

In one ward of the Almshouse several have lately 
died of the typhus fever. Soon after I preached there 
on the last Sabbath morning, one who heard me, gave 
\vp the ghost, whose corpse, to gratify friends, or for 
some other reason, was suffered to remain in the room, 



DESIGNATION IN DEATH. 197 

full of sick persons, until Monday. On the day of its 
removal, the nurse, a faithful attendant on the diseased, 
and a pious woman, was seized with the same malady. 
It was painful indeed to see one laid low, who had been 
serviceable to multitudes ; and affecting to behold the 
most respectable of the poor flocking around her, to 
mingle tears and prayers for her recovery. 

To a serious woman, whom I have known for some 
weeks, and who is dying in the same ward, I said, 
" You seem almost gone/' 

"Yes, Sir; I shall go soon," was her reply ; "but 
" I cannot hasten the time. Sometimes I am almost 
impatient to be gone, that I may be with Jesus, but 
I must wait my appointed time, and he will come 
soon." 

At the commencement of public worship this morn- 
ing, I was requested so soon as possible to come and 
pray with two persons, who have been my constant 
hearers. After sermon I went; but one was dead, and 
her coffin, half full of pine shavings, for her bed, was 
on the floor beside the lifeless body. 

The girl with whom Dr. P — conversed has entered 
the eternal world. While the patients in the Hospital 
were praising God, this afternooir, a man in the op. 
posite room awoke, and asked, " What singing is that T' 
In half an hour after I was with him, and he breathed 
his last in my presence, while I commented upon 
the scene, and sought to prepare the beholders for 
the exchange of worlds. A man was the preacher, 
but God made an immediate, practical application of 
the discourse. 

R 3 



198 CAROLINE DECEIVES HER FRIENDS, 

November *7tk. 

To detect deception in one whose happiness has been 
industriously sought, is painful. Detection, however, 
of every imposture, is desirable. 

To-day I have received a very polite letter from the 
post-master in G — 11, which states, that the letters to 
Mrs. M — S — -11 have been duly advertised, that diligent 
inquiries for such a person have been made, and that no 
such person resides either in that town or its vicinity. 
This letter was inclosed and presented to Caroline, with 
another, of which the following is a copy. 

" Neiv-York, Nov. 1th, 1811. 

CAROLINE, 

" You must know that I feel deeply interested in 
your temporal and eternal welfare. You have received 
a few favours, without knowing whence they came, 
and they were intended as pledges of future services. 
I am still ready to promote your welfare. But you 
must permit me to deal plainly as well as kindly with 
you. 

" Long have I perceived, that to hear me speak of 
expecting a letter from your mother gave you pain. 
You have deceived me ; but remember that I can for- 
give, and forget. Yea, I could plead some extenuation 
of your crime, for it was with reluctance that ytfu con- 
sented to my addressing your mother. Believe me still 
your friend, if you repent. You have done evil in this 
affair. You should be sorry, not so much that you 
have wronged me, as that you have displeased God. 
You are a young woman too well instructed, not to 



A FAITHFUL LETTER. 199 

know your mother's name, and the town, county, and 
state of her residence. I beseech you, then, to give me 
a true account, and I will not needlessly expose you, or 
the address of your mother. If you will permit me to 
write to her, this deception shall not be published 
to the patients, who have anticipated your second 
fall. Trust in me still, and if others will not assist you, 
I will, so long as you evince hatred of your past mis- 
conduct. As you value your immortal soul, tell me the 
whole truth, or nothing. Tell me your name, your 
wants, your trials in relation to your friends, and you 
will find me one who can pity and pardon a thousand 
times. A second deception will not answer. The past 
shall be as though it had not been. With God there is 
mercy. O may you liy to him for the pardon of every 
sin ! 

" Your friend, who, under Christ, would be your pre- 
server from misery and hell." 



November 9th. 

The matron of the Hospital sent me word, that not- 
withstanding all her remonstrances, Caroline was de- 
termined to leave the Hospital before she was sufficiently 
restored to quit the city. My remonstrances were added, 
and she was solemnly warned against returning to the 
abodes of ill fame ; for there no one could counsel, or 
exhort, or assist her; there her companions would 
entice ; and there want might, in some sense, be said to 
compel. No other family would receive a female 
stranger, and she was destitute of the means of provid- 
ing for herself. She cried like a child, but would not 
iurn her face away from the wall. In a conversation of 



200 CAROLINE LEAVES HER ASYLUM. 

more than an hour, she did not once look on the 
speaker. She must leave the Hospital, she said, but 
was firmly resolved never to return to past iniquity. 
This testimony concerning her resolutions could not be 
accredited by any one, in case of her departure : and 
I told her that I should consider her discharge from 
the Hospital, a voluntary plunge into the pit of des- 
truction. 



November 10th. 

Yestekda v, in the afternoon, crying and trembling, 
the foolish Caroline left her safe asylum. Whither she 
went I know not ; bntdisappc we all are, who 

sought her restoration, with this f comfort our- 

selves, that in some feeble manner we Lave imitated 
him, who came from heaven to seek the lost. 

P — , a poor girl, who has been in the Hospital man; 
months, and who has conducted with perfect propriety, 
says, " O that I could have simile.: lis of pn: 

tion." For months she has dreaded nothing so much as 
the thought of being discharge:, from the Hospital « 
out the means of subsistence. 

An assurance that she should not be compelled to 
return to a house of bad fame, while I could command 
a dollar, she received with a ccurtsey, a tear, and the 
declaration, that she felt herself u:v 
kindness. 



or 14th. 

Early on Monday » the 11th instant, I 

went to Long-Isls did not return m I 



SHE IS FOUND AGAIN. 201 

ing. Immediately on my arrival my brother invited me 
to go frith him and see a sick woman. Reluctantly I 
went a mile, and whom should I see but Caroline I 
Never did I expect to see her face again; but now I 
found her in a decent house, under the<care of a worthy 
woman, whose husband was present. The circumstances 
which led to this meeting were these. 

My brother, lately returned from England, had ac- 
companied me to the Hospital, on the sabbath, at dif- 
ferent times, and there had seen Caroline in tears. 
What I supposed to be her history I had told him ; 
and on the 10th made him acquainted with her de- 
parture, saying that I considered her lost for ever. 

On the same morning that I went to Long-Island, my 
brother, in walking the streets, saw Caroline weeping at 
a window. She knew him not; and he entered the 
house with the intention of ascertaining whether she 
was abandoned in principle. He requested to see her 
alone. She refused, saying that she had been vile, but 
she would hereafter see no gentleman alone. Her 
female companions entreated her to comply, alleging 
that she was in want of money, and had earned nothing 
since her return. She absolutely refused to speak with 
him, in any other place than before company. He had 
now gained the information which he desired, and pre- 
sented to her his card. 

" Are you his brother V 

" Yes." 

u And have you come to assist me If 

He assured her that he had come for that purpose 
alone, and would seek her decent lodgings if she would 
prefer them to her present abode. She had returned ta 



202 CAROLINE^ APOLOGY, 

the house whence she went, when received at the Hos- 
pital ; but she protested that she had not returned from 
any disposition to live dishonestly. No other house 
could she find for a shelter, and here she expected to get 
Well, that she might go home. 

" But you deceived my brother, and the governors of 
the Hospital," he said. 

On this subject she could have desired silence ; but 
she confessed, that she had borne a fictitious name in 
the city. Aside from this, she had rather suffered the 
minister to be deceived, than actually deceived him ; for 
her mother's name was Martha, and she did live in 
G — 11. " He concluded that my mother's name was 
S — 11, because I went by that surname." She then 
made my brother acquainted with her own and her 
parent's real name, and present place of residence. 
Still she insisted that she had been seduced from a 
boarding-school ; but more of her history could not 
willingly relate. 

After these disclosures and professions of repentance 
for her misconduct, my brother determined to seek for 
her a better home. After several unsuccessful attempts, 
he met Mr. Joseph George, and stated the whole 
affair. This young gentleman procured for her, whom 
I shall still call Caroline, her present asylum, and went 
with my brother to remove her > from the gates of 
hell. 

This evening I demanded of her, " Why did you 
leave the Hospital ¥' She could not endure, she said, to 
see those who had treated her kindly, and whom she had 
deceived, She expected, moreover, that the patients, 
who were always threatening Jher with the Almshouse^ 



A MAGDALEN ASYLUM PLANNED. 203 

Would reproach her more bitterly than ever. This did 
not excuse her from censure, mingled, nevertheless, 
with exhortation and compassion. 



November 16th. 

Mr. George, and many others, have long been te- 
volving in their minds the plan of a Magdalen Asylum * 
and the adventure in which he has lately been engaged, 
has given such a spur to his feelings, and such a tale to 
excite compassion, that the exertions of this young 
man will probably found the desired institution* 
Nothing is necessary but zeal to give the thing a 
commencement. 

Should Caroline be lost for ever, her history, whether 
true or false, may be employed by divine providence, 
so that it shall become the means of salvation to many. 
At present, Dr. John C. Osborne, one of the Physi- 
cians of the Hospital, very humanely attends upon her 
without money and without price. 



+++*+ +*r* +* 



December 11th. 



Since others have taken the charge of Caroline, I 
gladly witnessed their exertions; and, to encourage those 
who cannot bring their minds to assist deceivers, have 
travelled, going and returning, more than three hundred 
and fifty miles, that I might visit her mother. When 
drawing near the place in which I expected to find the 
object of my search, some affirmed that there was ; and 



204 CAROLINE'S MOTHER FOUND, 

others that there was not, such a being in existence. 
At my arrival in the town, a gentleman of distinction 
received me at dinner ; and the afternoon was spent in 
fruitless [inquiries, from house to house. Some knew 
the woman, and others did not. The sun had descend- 
ed, and hope almost failed me, when I strolled for the 
distance of a mile or two into a pine wood. It was 
dark and the path muddy. At a distance I saw a light, 
which proceeded from a log-house. This I entered, and 
saw some children, naked almost as they were born, 
sleeping in the ashes. Of the mother I demanded if she 
knew the family which I sought to find. She did ; and 
asked if I were a son, for, said she, " The woman had a 
*on who favours you ; and he lives away," She gave me 
such directions, that the next morning, before it was 
light, I galloped away many miles from the house of my 
honourable friend ; and before the sun had arisen from 
the mountains I saw the mother of Caroline. The re- 
semblance in their features assured me that there could 
be no mistake. The mother was carding cotton in an 
old-fashioned farm-house ; and had every appearance 
of the decent poverty of one who had seen happier 
clays* 

Before I discovered my business, she told me the 
number, and circumstances of her children, which per- 
fectly corresponded with the account given by Caroline* 
"But where is your youngest daughter?" With tears 
the mother said she did not know. "She was at a 
boarding school, kept by a teacher in the Methodist 
connexion, and she was enticed away. I've heard she 
was married; and I've heard she was dead, Do you 
know any thing about her V 



A MAGDALEN ASYLUM FOUNDED. 205 

The intelligence was like news from the dead. The 
mother wept, and laughed, and sighed, and wrung her 
hands, and wondered her daughter did not return. 

When I described the interview to Caroline, she dis- 
covered almost as much frenzy of affection as her 
mother. Still it remains uncertain whether they will 
ever meet again: but of this I am certain, that the mo- 
ther would gladly embrace a long-lost child,* 

* The curiosity of the reader has some claim to be gratified, 
by a narration of some subsequent events, which relate to Caro- 
line. In the beginning of the year 1812, " The Magdalen So- 
ciety of New-York" was organized, of which Peter Wilson, 
LuL.D* is President, John Murray, Ju^i. Vice-President, Tho- 
mas L. Ogden, Secretary, John Aspinvcall, Treasurer ; and 
Divie Bethune, Abraham Russel, John Cauldwell, Leonard Blee- 
ker, J. E. Caldwell, Robert Gosman, Thomas Harvey, James 
Bleeker, Nicholas Fish, John Withington, Jacob Delamon- 
tagne, Samuel Harris, Zechariah Lewis, Samuel Boyd, Joseph 
Smith, Nathan Comstock, and J. P. Mumford, are Managers,. 
The standing Committee, who have the power delegated to them, 
afforded Caroline a temporary asylum, and afterwards, since her 
last complaint required it, removed her to the Hospital for cure, 
No accommodations in the house of a poor persor*., or of one in 
mediocrity, can equal those of the Hospital. It was a kindness* 
therefore, to bring her back to the institution from which she 
fled. 

About the beginning of June, 1815, a woman, advanced in 
life, appeared on the sabbath at the gate of the Hospital, and 
requested admittance. Visitors on the sabbath are excluded, 
and she was therefore deiiied. She entreated that she might at 
least see the preacher. He went to the gate, knew her face, 
and understood, without any explanation, her business. For 
three days she had been seeking in the city for the person who 
sought her among the mountains. 

" Come in, come in—.'' 

11 After I have heard you preach," she said, li I should be 
glad to learn of you— -" 

s 



206 AN AFFECTING MEETING. 



December V2th. 

A YOUNG man who has cut his throat, but who i=- 
now rational, signified his desire that the writer should 
pray for him. What occasioned his attempt at suicide 
is unknown. He is an American, who was impressed 
on board a British ship of war, but obtained his pay 

u Yes, yes, you shall see the person,'" the preacher said, and 
leading the way, pointed her to the room in which he was to 
officiate. She entered, and sat down on a bench, at the foot of 
the bed on whicn her daughter lay. In a moment their eyes met ; 
and oh ! what a meeting was that ! It was too sudden and un- 
expected. They wept together ; and when the preacher com- 
menced public worship, the poor old woman was still bending 
over her weeping child. Yea, during the whole service, the 
SBOther would walk before the bed of her daughter, cry, wring 
her hands, look at the preacher, and then her child, smile and 
sob again. She would have taken Caroline home with her ; but 
the state of her health would not then permit. She has since 
been restored to soundness, and has returned to her afflicted 
parent. 

What will become of this miserably seduced person remains 
to be decided by her own conduct. She may continue to behave 
well, and she may fall more basely than ever. Over her real 
name, and perhaps all the future, should it be known to the 
writer, it will be best to draw the veil of night. It is sufficient, 
that the influence of her history in giving rise to the Magdalen 
Society, has already been exhibited. Should that Institution be 
conducted on the principles of similar charities in Europe, it 
will undoubtedly be productive of much good. It has already 
received P — , and some others. Should the members merely save 
an individual annually, their labours would not be without an 
adequate reward in the present life. Let it never be forgotten, 
that Jesus kindly instructed the woman of Samaria, who was 
living in an illicit connexion ; and that publicans and harlots 
enter the kingdom of heaven, while multitudes of the censorious 
are excluded = 



THE FRANTIC SUICIDE. 207 

and a discharge in August of the present year. He had 
been in this city but a few days, before he delivered 
his money into the hands of his landlord, and perpe- 
trated the deed against his own flesh. 

The writer conversed also with P — G — , a man of 
middle age, who seems to have been seriously aroused 
from spiritual lethargy, while in the Hospital. 



December ISth. 

This evening the suicide became furious against 
himself; said he might as well die now as confess his 
sins to a court, and be hung ; and made such vigorous 
exertions, that four men could not prevent him from 
tearing open his wounds, that he might rush upon the 
judgment of Jehovah. 

December 16th. 

A YOUNG man, who has heard me preach for many 
weeks in the Hospital, who was convalescing in the 
Almshouse, but who now has a fever, requested that I 
would come and see him once more before his death, 
Poor fellow ! he could not converse ; he could only 
clasp his hands and look up. In this posture were his 
hands and eyes, when I left him. Who can say that 
he may not, by the eye of faith, penetrate the veil 
which obscures heaven from busy mortals 1 



B 2 



!208 CONVICTION BROUGHT HOME, 



December 11th. 

The man of whom I wrote on the 12th instant, was 
anxious to see me ; and assures me, to-day, that he 
would wish never, never to sin again, were hell annihi- 
lated. He would not willingly displease the compas- 
sionate God, were he disarmed of his thunders. 

It is seriously to be apprehended, that comparatively 
few sailors will make the haven of eternal bliss. They 
sail upon an opposite course ; their passions are the 
gales, and they spread all their canvass. 

One I have seen to-day who seems bound in a right 
direction. He has been constrained to come about. 
According to his statement, he was born in Salem, 
Massachusetts, and has been for many years a bold, 
profane, rampant tar. Until two years ago he was the 
chief of bullies; would defy every man; and when on 
shore, found the highest gratification in a riot. His 
mother and grandmother were pious. Whenever he 
landed in his native state, he went immediately to see 
the latter, because he loved her as much as his mother. 
About two years since this Lois, who had imitated 
the grandmother of Timothy, went to glory. He was 
accustomed to think of her with delight, and his con- 
science frequently proposed to his heart this question : 
"How can I ever expect to meet that pious relative V 
He was convinced that tsvo persons so different as 
they were could never meet in heaven, unless he was 
first converted. Thus commenced his seriousness: and 
he went to sea again. On the voyage he was contem- 
plative, and diligently applied himself to the Bible, to 
learn how he might meet that ^ood woman. In the 



THE REPENTANT SON* 209 

BOOK he found that there is no heaven, without being 
a new creature in Christ Jesus. " To show you, Sir," 
he said, "what Christ can do, I must say, that my mess- 
mates were afraid of me, because I was so blasphemous- 
ly wicked, but he has made me like a little child. I, 
who always desired a boxing-match, have since been 
more pleased to be smitten on both cheeks without 
returning it, than I should be to receive a hundred 
dollars." 



December 18th, 

P — G — , dying with the rapid consumption, is still 
solicitous about the way of life. This is the object of 
his chief concern; but he wishes also to prepare a 
peaceful grave for his bones. To an amanuensis, one of 
his fellow-patients, he dictated the following letter: 

New-York Hospital, Dec. 18, ISu. 

HONOURED FATHER, 

I am sorry to be obliged to inform you that I am at 
this present time obliged to get a person to write for 
me to you, to let you know that I am very sick in the 
New- York Hospital, and to all appearance near to the 
end of my life. And as I am destitute of money, and 
wish to be buried in some decent manner, which cannot 
be done without it ; I therefore request you to send me 
some for that purpose as soon as possible after you re- 
ceive this, as I know not how soon my time may come. 
I have been a wicked child, but I pray you, Oh my 
dearest father ! not to refuse this last request of your 
dying son. Ten dollars will be sufficient to procure 
me a bed, where my body may remain unmolested, 



210 PRAYERS OFFERED FOR THE DYING. 

Please to send it to Mr. Noah Wetmore, the Super- 
intendent of the New- York Hospital, who will see it 
faithfully applied for that purpose. In the mean time, 
and I believe for the last time, permit me to subscribe 
myself your distressed and almost dying son, 

P—G-. 

Mr. D— G— . 

P. S. Give my duty to my mother for the last time." 

To one of his brethren he writes under the same 
date : 

" If my brother Samuel is at home, give my love to 
him, and if possible I wish to see him here before I 
die. I am a great sinner; I have been a wild high fel- 
low, but now I pray God to forgive my sins, before I 
come to his judgment. Give my last love to all my 
sisters, and the rest of my kindred. 

P— G— * 



December 19th. 

In one ward of the Almshouse in which I prayed 
to-day, were nine or ten persons dangerously sick. 
There was so much groaning from bodily pain, that I 
could scarcely think of any thing else. Prayers were 
offered also in the presence of about forty women of ill 
fame ; of whom not more than four appear to have any 
sort of care for their immortal souls. Two of these 
persons were M^ B. and A. W. of whom I have re- 
peatedly written. The other two I know not, but one 
of them wept and prayed aloud, in a few words, which 
denoted great fear and anxiety. 



A POETICAL EFFUSION, 2H 



December 23rd. 

This evening P — G— died, with a composed spirit. 
When he felt himself near the eternal world, he was un- 
concerned for the mortal part. Jesus Christ will raise 
it up at the last day, and should the particks of dust be 
scattered to the four winds, He who formed man will 
be at no loss for materials, in erecting the spiritual 
frame.* 



•+**-**+**+ 



December 2bth. 

The Rev. John Stanford has been abundant in 
his gratuitous labours among the inhabitants of the 
State's Prison. One of the prisoners to-day expressed 
his gratitude to this gentleman in a poetical address, of 
which the following is 

AN EXTRACT. 

" To soothe the sick, to lead the bliud, 
And comfort give the wretched mind, 
You always take a feeling part, 
And find admission to the heart. 
All this is done in such kind ways 
As captivate the heart that strays, 
And consolation often brings, 
As though it were on angels' wings, 



* The letters which were forwarded to the friends of P — G— 
were not received until long after his death. Immediately on the 
reception, the father directed a very affecting ietter to me, in 
which he inquires after his son ; and proffers him, if living, all 
mitable assistance. 



" 212 THE COMPASSIONATE PASTOR. ] 

When Justice lifts the sword of state, 
All must of course submit their fate, 
Yet if, through error, she should strike 
The just and the unjust alike, 
Your doctrine still shall bring to sight 
The brightest day in darkest night. 
Many there are, who see with pain 
The prison-door, and prison-chain ; 
Yet few there are so free to give 
Their time and service to relieve." 

In the last lines the prisoner alludes to the fact, that 
most of the ministers of the gospel, who preach in 
rotation at the prison, give only the service of half the 
sabbath, because it is inconvenient to desert their re- 
spective churches ; while Mr. S — , having no parochial 
charge, and feeling compassion for those who would 
otherwise be in close confinement, labours with them 
during the whole day. 

Another prisoner, being desirous of expressing his 
gratitude for the preaching of the gospel, wrote an 
address to Mr. Stanford in the Latin language, which 
he translated, and presented to the superintendent in a 
letter, which for elegance and delicacy of compliment 
has rarely been surpassed by any pen. The following is 

A COPY OF THE LETTER. 

i( To Nicholas Rooine, Esq. 
Indulgent Sir, 

Permit me, through the medium of yourself, to 
present the Rev. Mr. Stanford w ith a new-year's gift. 
The friendly and disinterested manner in which he has 
so frequently addressed us, has impressed me, and, I 
sincerely believe, many others, with a deep sense of our 



A TOKEN ©F GRATITUDE. 213 

obligations. I am not authorized to address him in 
behalf of the prisoners, though individuals cordially 
assent, but beg leave, in the commencement of the new 
year, to give him a small token of our gratitude. The 
mode may appear novel. I have written it in Latin, 
not with a view to exhibit a specimen of an imperfect 
and much impaired education, but merely to pay a just 
compliment to Mr. Stanford's superior understanding. 
For your own personal convenience, I have annexed to 
this a translation, as literal as the peculiar idioms of 
the two languages would permit. There are, undoubt- 
edly, many imperfections; but Mr. Stanford's well 
known goodness encourages a hope, that he will view it 
with candour. 

" Notwithstanding the gratitude I feel for Mr. Stan- 
ford, it is not confined to him alone. You, Sir, hold an 
equal claim. For the numerous instances of your past 
kindness, I wish you, on this occasion, a restoration of 
your health. May you liberally enjoy the blessings of 
the new year. May you long live to enjoy conjugal 
and paternal felicity. May the lives of those sweet 
babes, who daily delight you with their innocent prat- 
tle, be prolonged ; and may they become ornaments to 
society, in whose future prosperity you anticipate the 
joys of your old age ! 

" With sentiments of gratitude I subscribe myself 
the unfortunate, 

O— P~~,' 3 



214 A NEW YEAR'S GIFT. 

A Copy of the inclosed tra7islation* 

" A NEW YEAR'S GIFT, 

" With diffidence addressed to the most reverend John 
Sta7iford, Master of Arts, Doctor of Divinity, 
and the Friend of Man.* 

€i If it be proper for me, a wretch, confined in a pri- 
son and clothed with disgrace, to greet you, con- 
templating the events of the past year, and your numer- 
ous endeavours to instruct our ignorant minds, 1 wish 
you the blessings of heaven. Your labours, in consoling 
the wretched and drawing souls to the Saviour of sinners, 
demand our thanks. I have not words whereby I can 
express the feelings of my heart. Not flattery, but the 
truth, I speak. There is a suavity in your manner of 
speaking, which gives comfort to the most miserable, 
and plainly indicates the humanity of the speaker. 
While the body languishes through grief, you nourish 
the soul by gospel food. 

" As hard w r ax is rendered soft by fire, so by your 
discourses stubborn hearts are prepared to receive the 
impressions of divine truth; and, while the mind 
winders in error, you point out the way which leads to 
eternal happiness. 

"For your kind services, with which we have so 
frequently been favoured, I pray that your prosperity 
may be increased this year; that you may live long 
here below ; and when you quit this mortal life, may 
God receive you to the mansions above, where, joined 

* The English reader will remember, that this is the usual style 
of address, which was used aming the polite Romans. 



IALF.isiS NECESSARY IN AN ITINERANT. 215 

with the saints, you may for ever exalt the praises of 
God and the Lamb. 

Thus prays, 

b— p— ." 

It is a proof of the scholarship of this prisoner, that 
to the original paper he has subjoined a note, altering 
the phraseology, that he might avoid the repetition of the 
same word. Such prisoners have sufficient talents to 
render them good critics, and the man, who thinks that 
a weak discourse " will answer for the State's Prison/' 
has forgotten that fools are never rogues. Perhaps 
six hundred hearers, who possess equal acuteness with 
the prisoners, cannot easily be assembled in any church. 
They very soon discover what they think of the talent 
and feeling of a preacher, and when neither is manifest- 
ed, had he eyes of observation, lie might witness their 
contempt and his own disgrace. 

Prisons, and new settlements, which frequently 
abound with infidels, and persons who disregard divine 
ordinances, are the last places which should be visited 
by those weak things of the world which are of little 
use in well-informed societies. A weak man may 
minister to a church already established, but a weak 
missionary will not commonly assemble the outcasts* 
and awe the profane. 



t s-er-r+r* r*^ 



December 28fA. 

On Thursday last, I visited fifty sick persons in the 
Almshouse; on Friday, four wards in the Hospital; 
and to-day, five poor families. In one, to which I went 
at the request of Mrs. B— n, was found a young widow 



216 DREADFUL CONSEQUENCES OF Sly 

with two small children, who said, "When I look upon 
my babes, nature cries life, life ; but I can resign them 
to God, for he is a merciful God." Her conversatioa 
was all of this description, and exquisitely tender. 



**■•+•*■ +-*>*■ r r* +*+ 



December 30th. 

Many ministers of the word have visited a man, 
who is now in confinement, under sentence of death, 
and who is to be executed in a few days. He said to 
me, " Many urge me to declare that I am confident of 
pardon ; but I cannot, I will not say any~such thing. I 
can only say, that I submit myself to the will of God, 
having some feeble hope that he will accept me as 
righteous for the sake of Christ, and make me happy 
in heaven." 

The history of this man is short He was born in 
Scotland, was a baker by profession, and removed to 
this country with his wife. She became intemperate in 
the use of ardent spirits, and squandered his earnings. 
They quarrelled, and he forsook her. A shock of the 
palsy disabled him, and then, for his maintenance, he 
began to sell small books, songs, and pictures. He 
took a housekeeper, with whom he lived unlawfully* 
who was a drunkard, no less than his wife. His new 
trade and company made him a tippler also. On the 
morning of the fatal deed, he arose at five o'clock, went 
to a neighbouring dram-shop, drank freely, returned 
home, and went to bed. At seven o'clock he awoke, 
and found that his concubine, who had been out, 
drunken, all night, had returned and plundered his 
pocket. She too had taken her morning draught, and 



DYING SPEECHES. 217 

was insensible beside him. In his fury he arose, " half 
drunken, but more mad," as he confessed to me, and 
with a stick gave her the blows which were followed by 
death. 

When Sinclair and Johnson were about to be execu- 
ted, last January, this man was selling near Bridewell, 
the " last words and dying speeches of the criminals," 
made by the printer, with a picture of the same gallows 
to which the laws of God and his country require him 
to come. 



" Around the bed of loose desire, 

For ever hover wild, tumultuous dreams ; 
Some vengeful brother wills the duel dire, 
The ghost of some defloured woman screams : 

" Some chaste Lucina, butcher'd, bleeding lies, 
While angry Justice whets her flaming sword ; 
By treachery stabb'd some worthier rival dies, 
And the grim hangman knois the shameful cord/* 

W. M. JCHN.vA.v. 

December 31 sf. 

INSANITY. 

tc Yon shiv'ring wretch, (whose pale and squalid form, 
84 Which streaming rags o'erhang, but not infold § 
<s Seems mounting on the wild wing of the storm, 
" Worn to a ghost by hunger, thirst, and cold,) 

f:C Two little years ago, could boast a bloom 

i? That might with Hebe's or Hygeia's vie ; 

u Content and pleasure made that breast their home 

11 That now, so bare and purple, braves the sky." 

W T . II. Johnson's MS. 

Haying brought my journal to the last day of the 
7/ear, I propose to conclude it, by giving a short history 

T 



218 INSANITY. 

t)f several insane persons, whom I have seen, hi different 
situations. Where I have seen them, will not always be 
said; nor can it be a matter of much consequence to 
the reader ; but upon the fidelity of my representations 
may be placed firm reliance. What I have seen I must 
believe, and what I shall write from the testimony of 
others, is from such credible witnesses, that I am firmly 
convinced of its truth, and nothing may be thought a 
fiction. 

Who does not pity the "shiv'ring wretch," who is 
lost to himself and society 1 What can have produced 
his insanity 1 To give a medical dissertation on this sub- 
ject, were it in my power, would not be my province ; 
but to treat of several moral causes of mental derange- 
ment, may subserve the interests of humanity and 
religion. Misconduct is more commonly the predis- 
posing cause to madness than any inevitable providence, 
A blow $»n the head, a fever, intense heat, coup de soleil, 
and lunar changes, may affect the brain and whole 
nervous system ; but intemperance in drink, inordinate 
attachments, and vicious indulgences, are the most 
common sources of mental disorder. The person who 
yields himself to any inordinate passion, exposes his 
rational faculties. Avarice, lust, infidelity, and im- 
prudence, are the prolific causes of more than half that 
disorder which bears various names, under its different 
appearances, from a wild imagination to fatuity. 

The love of money, when inordinate, is "a root of 
■evil." I have known a young woman, who lost twenty 
dollars in the street, which she could not find ; and, 
after a few days of anxiety on the subject, became a 
maniac. It was a large sum, indeed, to her; but would 
any person, who duly estimated the value of gold ayd 



THE INSANE PATRIOT. 219 

silver, become a bedlamite for such a paltry consider- 
ation? Yet this young woman was so frantic as to jump 
out of a chamber window, and died in a week. While 
we pity her, we cannot but exclaim, 

" Curs'd gold ! how high will daring mortals rise 
44 In ev'ry guilt, to reach the glittering prize r" 

Pirr u 

The love of country is commendable, but when un- 
restrained, it is madness. From this cause I have seen 
a German, who stands on this side the Atlantic, and 
converses from morning to evening with the people of 
Germany. He doubts not but they hear, and he, in re- 
turn, is perfectly apprised of their answers. 

Another man I know, who marches up to every 
stranger, whom he is permitted to see, with the brim ot 
his hat folded under, before and behind, to make it 
resemble a military cap, and putting his crooked finger 
into his mouth, gives a tremendous whistle. The 
stranger will naturally tremble, but there is no danger ; 
for the young man, tall and majestic, even in rags and 
filth, is one of 

Li Rough nature's children, humorous as she/ 5 

He was one who took some part in " the late ie~ 
bellion in Ireland," and found it necessary to escape for 
his life to America. From some, who knew him. at 
home, we learn, that he was a reputable farmer. Now 
he wishes to talk about the blood-thirsty fellows, (as he 
calls them) who caught him by the throat, from whom 
he fled ; but more particularly, about the people of Kil- 
kenny, his neighbours, his father's farm, and " uncle 
T 2 



220 VICIOUS COMPANY. 

Patrick over the way." He insists upon it, that he 
knew me there, and had letters from me, which he still 
preserves. In this country he was disappointed, and, 
" the green little Isle of the Ocean'' was so connected 
with all his affections, that they with his reason have 
returned to it, and left nothing but the erect animal in 
America. 

Let us learn then, not to love the place of our na- 
tivity or any prosperous condition supremely, lest our 
souls, being wedded to earth, should be involved in her 
final ruin, and beholding her vanish, should say, " we 
have lost all/ 7 

To prevent confusion, I shall introduce several 
distinct articles; and the first will exhibit the danger 
of yielding to 

VICIOUS COMPANY, 

A young Irishman, not long ago, left a wife and 
child, whom he tenderly regarded, in the land of his 
fathers, and came to this country to improve his con- 
dition. His family he left behind, because he could 
pay for only one passage, and knew not how he cl ' n 

succeed in America. Here he found con**' , 

..ant employ- 
ment, and resolved to remove hi? r - * 

' , , „ . . *amilv, so soon as he 

could send them sutn^"" L ",. , +1 - 

.cnt money to discharge their 
necessary exr»-- - J , 

, j^.. J r dises on the voyage. He earned twenty 

_.afs, and delivered into the hands of his uncle the 

same sum, that it might be preserved in safety. In a 

few months, he cleared by his labour fifty dollars more, 

and then took the seventy, to deliver to a captain, who 

had engaged to bring him his partner and child. He 



CONVIVIAL INSANITY, 221 

was on his way to the ship, with all his property in his 
pocket, when he met with some of his jovial country- 
men, to whom, with the frankness of his nation, he 
told his good fortune. They enticed him into a common 
grog-shop; and he in his prosperity began to treat them. 
In return they made him drink. The social whisky 
went round, and round again, until the unfortunate 
young man sunk down in slumber on the floor. In the 
morning he awoke, chiding himself for his folly; and 
here his misery commenced. He felt in his pocket for 
his money ; but it was in vain. His seducers and his 
money were gone together. He had nothing to remit to 
his wife; his courage was gone; and j after walking the 
streets a few days in melancholy, he became a maniac. 
A course of medicine cured his raving, but left him in 
a state of fatuity. Now he cares nothing for the friends 
he once loved, nothing for his wife, nothing for his child ; 
and will probably die in stupidity. Such were the re- 
sults of yielding to vicious company, for a night. These 
sons of Hibernia are some of the noblest, or some of the 
vilest of men. Their love of company is one of their 
greatest temptations. Could taeir hospitality here, 
command nothing more than the hard, but welcome 
fare of Erin, it would be productive of little evil ; but 
in x\merica, one that would give his guest a potatoe in 
Ireland, gives him " a mug, stiff, and far to the north ;" 
a besotting, deadly dram. 



THE CURSE OF AVARICE. 

The subject of this article, whose history is a com- 
ment upon the title, is an aged woman, who is now 

T 3 



222 CURSE OF AVARICE. 

dependent on alms for subsistence. Once she had 
friends and possessions, leased several houses, and lived 
in affluence. She was single, and, in middle age, avarice 
became her predominant passion. After an ominous 
course of extortion, a quarter-day arrived, on which she 
sallied forth to collect rents. Among her tenants, she 
found a woman, that held in her arms a child of fourteen 
days. The husband of this mother was a worthless man ; 
but she had been hitherto punctual in payments, and 
would now have been had she not been subject to un- 
usual expenditures. When the griping landlady called, 
the poor woman was unable to leave her bed. 

" Pay me that thou owest," said the maiden lady. 

" Wait a little while, and I will pay thee all," said 
the tenant, and pleaded the peculiarity of her circum- 
stances, to one who could not feel for the mother of 
babes, that are worse than fatherless while the father 
lives. Payment the owner of the house would have; 
for when she took the bed from under the sick mother 
to sell it at auction, the child of sorrow, the mother in 
anguish said, " May you never again sleep on a bed 
while you live." This was probably uttered with no 
pious emotion, but, in the issue, it appears to have been 
a curse which took effect ; for the person against whom 
it was fulminated has never since slept on any other bed 
than the floor. From that unhappy day, her conscience 
smote her, and at first she could not sleep any where. 
Afterwards she refused to make the attempt on any bed, 
and for many years, even to this day, accepts of nothing 
but a blanket and the floor. 

Her intellectual faculties became disordered, and her 
property was soon dispersed. Although her reason has 
forsaken her, yet her pride has not. Suitable clothing 



DISAPPOINTMENTS. 223 

is offered her ; but she will' not receive it, because she 
was " not accustomed to such attire." I have seen her 
bare-foot in the midst of winter, because she could not 
obtain kid shoes and silk stockings ; and she is always 
bare-headed in the rain and sunshine, because she wants 
a tnsty bonnet. She will wear a fine calico gown, until 
it is all tattered to shivers, even in the winter, when it 
no more than haif covers her body, to the rejection of 
warm but coarse woollen garments. 

" A tatter'd apron hides, 

u Worn as a cloak, and hardly hides, a gown 
" More tatter'd still ; and both but ill conceal 
" A bosom heav'd with never-ceasing sighs." 

Her delirium is not, however, so well calculated to 
excite sympathy as that of Cowper's Crazy Kate. In 
her ornaments she is still fantastic ; for having slit her 
ears down repeatedly with ponderous rings, like the 
hoops which were lately in vogue, she now ties twine 
to her ears, and suspends brass baubles from the flaxen 
thread. Neither entreaty nor force can change her 
habits. The curse of avarice has entered into that heart, 
which once nurtured the demon; it pervades the life; 
and is likely to be lasting as futurity. - 



*■*■ ++ +*-rJ-**- 



DISAPPOINTMENTS. 

A young lady, the daughter of a judge, had high ex- 
pectations from her father's affluence and her own per- 
sonal accomplishments. She was caressed by many 
friends, and had not anticipated adversity. It came, 
however, and found her supremely attached to perish- 



224 INSANITY OF LOVE. 

able objects. Her father's property took wings, and, in 
the place of flattering attentions, came neglect. It Mi 
more than her mind could endure. She became dis- 
consolate; madness followed; fatuity succeeded, and a 
dysentery closed the mortal scene. I have seen her 
seated in a window, where she would remain silent the 
livelong day; and, unless charity had forbidden, would 
have remained the livelong night. Her large blue eyes 
were intensely fixed on nothing visible to rational be- 
ings, and she refused to speak. Sad, indeed, was her 
love of splendour and affluence ! The change which she 
experienced was mortifying to vanity ; but more hum- 
bling to humanity was the effect of disappointment. 

A similar instance of insanity I have seen in a young 
man, who, for several years, was particular in his at- 
tentions to one of the most pleasing maids of his na- 
tive village. She apparently reciprocated his fondness ; 
but before his financial concerns would permit him to 
enter the state of wedlock, the brisk young captain of 
a ship saw the betrothed virgin, and by his money, or 
ardour, or something else, made such an impression on 
her heart as to efface the image of her first lover. The 
damsel was married to the last, the favourite suitor, and 
the first lost his reason. This disappointment was too 
heavy for him ; for he had idolized a woman, and when 
his god was taken away, what had he left for his con- 
i ! He became a strange unhappy being from the 
day of his disappointment. Nut long after his insanity 
became confirmed, he got off his urother's vessel from 
the wharf, and was going oat to sea with the tide. 
The pilots came along side oi him, and demanded what 
hands were on board. He said he had a mate below. 
They insisted on seeing him, and behold, the maniac 



INSANITY OF COVETOUSNESS, 225 

brought up on deck his cat, which was his mate, and 
the only companion of his intended voyage. To prevent 
liim from performing similar actions, his friends have 
put him into a state of confinement, where he has ail 
the blessings which one in his condition is able to re- 
ceive. 

A third case of disappointment, which I shall state, 
is that of a blooming young woman, who married an 
aged man, from the hope of enjoying his affluence. Af- 
ter marriage she found the scrutoire locked against her, 
and instead of indulging herself in the elegancies of 
society, she was forced to live economically. This 
would have been a small trial to one who married from 
affection, but it drove her to such madness, that to be 
revenged on his parsimony, she would sand her floor 
with Indian sugar. With a babe in her arms, she has 
fled from her husband, and with bare feet has travelled 
in a cold eight &£ or tWe i ve m ;i es . ^vho can be happy 
in the matrimonial union 1 

4< ?Jdt sordid souls of earthly mould, 

M "Who, drawn by kindred charms of gold, 

46 To dull embraces move : 
" So two rich mountains of Peru 
" May rush to wealthy marriage too, 

" And make a world of love." 

Watts. 

None but fools despise money; but matrimony re- 
quires some other foundation. 

A fourth instance o£ insanity from disappointment 
may be found in the person of a stately Frenchman 
who was a planter in one of the West-Indian Islands, 
He was in affluence, but lost his estate by the miscon- 
duct of a commercial partner, Being dissatisfied with 



226 INSANITY OF PRIDE. 

his situation, he removed to one of the largest cities in 
the United States, and opened a hat-store, but did not 
prosper in his new business. Disappointment upon dis- 
appointment made him dejected. He could not associate 
with such company as he had been familiar with ; and 
the strange notion came into his head that the citizens 
thought him black. To rectify their unfavourable opinion 
on this subject, he took down his sign, and made an 
improvement upon it, by painting the word white before 
his name. This, however, did not obviate the difficul- 
ty, for, according to his imagination, every person still 
thought him black. His delirium increased, and he for- 
sook his shop to rove the streets. All the scraps of waste 
paper which he could find he thought were checks, or 
bank-notes. With these he frequented the custom-house 
and banks of the city ; until the clerks, to be rid of this 
troublesome merchant, allowed him to make deposits, 
and gave him in return strips of paper, with such marks 
and signatures as little children make when they first 
write letters to their companions. Property of this de- 
scription he accumulated, until he was worth, in his 
estimation (judging as many great men estimate paper,) 
the sum of several hundred thousand dollars. 

This unexampled prosperity did not diminish his 
hatred of those who had defrauded him, or of those who 
thought him black. I have seen him in the streets, 
loaded with paper, and swollen with rage. To cure 
him if possible, and keep him from mischief, he was 
conveyed to an asylum; but the faculty have not been 
able to 

" minister to a mind diseas'd; 

" Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; 
u Raze oat the written troubles of the brain $ 



THE INSANE BANKRUPT, 227 

" And with some sweet oblivious antidote, 
f( Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff 
44 Which weighs upon the heart. " 

A tall country girl of good figure and agreeable man- 
ners, presents a fifth case. In childhood she was first 
among her school-mates, and although her parents were 
poor, ye*t they were reputable, and associated with the 
first families of the town. She was bred to the trade of 
a mantua-maker, and excelled in her profession. Her 
good sense, gracefulness, and industry, procured her 9 
when marriageable, the addresses of some of the most 
flourishing young farmers of the neighbourhood. Seve- 
ral offers of marriage were so flattering to her vanityt 
that she presumed to think that she could command any 
alliance, (an imagination very common to the gay and 
prosperous,) and therefore the young men of her village 
were allowed to sue and be rejected. In the midst of 
this career of coquetry, a rich uncle visited her father, 
and was pleased with the fine person and agreeable con- 
versation of his niece. " The girl was made," said he, 
u for something more than a seamstress." This the 
young lady believed to be sound doctrine. The uncle 
proposed to adopt her, to take her to his place of resi- 
dence, and to establish her in a shop of jewellery. The 
proposal was no sooner made than accepted. She was 
furnished, in a large city, with a fine assortment of 
jewellery, and for a time shone with the splendour of a 
princess. Her fondest wishes were gratified; but her 
head was not in a right condition for calculations. She 
could more easily count the profits of a day's labour 
than the loss and gain upon a box of golden ornaments. 
She became a bankrupt; and in consequence of the 
chagrin and vexation which she experienced, a lunatic. 



S28 THE CRAZY MAID. 

Her uncle could not manage her, for she had now be- 
come a princess, owned immense possessions, and could 
not move without a retinue. He sent her back to her 
father; but she could not live with a poor man. She 
thought, and still thinks, herself the mistress of coaches, 
castles, and palaces. Her form is still erect, a/id her 
manner studiously dignified. She is in confinement; but 
her abode is her palace, and all the maniacs are her 
servants. For a long tune she refused to do any manner 
of work, and would go naked in preference to wearing 
a coarse dress. She was disciplined, however, with the 
shower-bath ; and in making her own garments, proves 
that she has not forgotten the use of her needle. 

A gentleman saw her making a shirt, and said, "Are 
you at work, then?" 

" O no. Sir" was her reply, " / ivas seiving a little 
fine work, to chsorb the perspiration of my fingers." 

Every thing is said and done by her in the same 
style. Had she a few thousands, yearly, possibly she 
might not conduct herself more like an insane person 
than many other splendid and extravagant daughters of 
pleasure. 

The last person to whom I shall allude under this 
bead, resembles crazy Kate. 

' There often wanders one, whom better days 
u Saw better clad, in cloak of satin trimm'd 
" With l;ice, and hat with splendid ribband bound. 
41 A serving maid was she, and fell in love 
ii With one who left her, went to sea, and died. 
" Her fancy followed him through foaming waves 
" To distant shores ; and she would sit and weep 
" At what a sailor suffers ; fancy, too, 
u Delusive most where warmest wishes, 
" Would oft anticipate his glad retum > 



Disappointed love. " $Z9 

tx And dream of transports she was not to know. 
« She heard the doleful tidings of his death, 
" And never smil'd again l" 

Eliza was a sort of servant maid and apprentice to 
an elder sister, who is a milliner. A young sailor visited 
her, and she loved him; but the sister prevented a 
match. This disappointment made the young maid in- 
sane. She has left raving ; but stupidity is now seated 
on her Grecian face; and, in lieu of every other enjoy- 
ment, she is obliged to content herself with taking snuff 
from morning until evening. Her eye is black, her hair 
dark, and the upper part of her face is a bland mixture 
of white and red, over which a faint smile flits, when 
her lover is spoken of; but from the nose down, there 
is nothing but the yellow Scotch ornament. 

All she desires, is, " to go home; for then somebody 
who came to see somebody, would come again to see 
some of their folks; and she should see him; but he 
would not come to see her»" 

Poor thing ! Her sorrows should warn friends and 
relatives not to interfere, when young persons are dis- 
posed prudently to connect themselves with partners 
of their own rank in society. The poor as well as the 
rich have liberty to marryp and verily, it is no disgrace, 
to manifest by practice, that we accord with the divine 
opinion, which decides, that " it is not good for man 
to be alone." Some, who are unequal in many items, 
may upon the whole be "equally yoked together. 

•' In snch a world, so thorny, and where none 
" Find happiness unblighted ; or, if found, 
*' Without some thistly sorrow at its side, 
" It seems the part of wisdom, and no sin 
u 



230 DRUNKENNESS. 

" Against the law of love, to measure lots 
" With less distinguished than ourselves ; and thus 
" We may with patience bear our modVate ill-, 
" And sympathise with others, suffring more." 

Thus the exquisite poet Cowper sung, who loved in 
early life one of humble circumstances, and possibly 
might have been saved from long years of madness, 
had not the pride of his relatives interfered with his 
partialities. 

One less distinguished I could love, indeed, 
But one whom less deserving I esteem'd, 
Could never be the partner of my joys, 
Could never share the half of my full soul, 
Nor mitigate the pangs of mortal grief. 



DRUNKENNESS. 

More than half of the persons whom I have seen 
insane, were brought into that state by an intemperate 
use of ardent spirits. It will be sufficient, under this 
head, to state one instance. 

J. P — , an Englishman, a dresser of morocco-leather, 
had been accustomed to malt liquors in his native 
country ; but in America found ardent spirits cheap 
and much in fashion. He was industrious, and, it is 
said, more skilful in his line of business than any other 
person in this city. He was young, and when in com- 
pany, was prevailed on to imitate his companions in 
"drinking deep." In consequence of one night's ex- 
cess he became raving mad, and continued in that state 
for a long time. When the physician had succeeded in 
restoring his reason, he taught the young man what t* 



NOVELS. 231 

expect from future misconduct, and solemnly warned 
him to drink no more spirits. Admonition, and sad 
experience, however, were ineffectual. In three weeks 
after his first restoration, he drank again to excess, and 
did not regain his reason in less than eighteen months. 
When insane, he was full of fear, and would start like 
a giddy horse, at almost every object. A second time 
he was cured, and very wisely took his departure front 
this country for the land of good malt liquor. 



NOVELS. 

Not for the sake of disquisition on romance, absur- 
dity, and the favourite books of many gentlemen, as 
well as ladies of little thought, is this article intro- 
duced ; but to state a fact, which may prove a salutary 
warning to such persons as cannot read the Scriptures 
for an hour, but having perused a novel all day, carry 
it to bed for their entertainment bv night. 

I have seen a young lady, whose eyes seem to flash 
fire, and whose tongue is never silent. She sings songs 
with enthusiasm, and can scarcely be dissuaded by any 
thing, but a desire to give and receive compliments, 
from giving twenty love-ditties in succession. Her ani- 
mation increases until the soft voice becomes a savage 
yell; and the eye, which sparkled with] delight, is suf- 
fused with an unmeaning tear. The exertion creates aa 
increased action of the blood, unfavourable to recovery ; 
but " she has been taught that she must display her 
powers ; she must gratify the gentlemen, she must please 
the ladies ;" and it is neither in the power, nor com* 
monly in the disposition of her maniac companions, to 

u 2 



232 THE DERANGED SONGSTER. ' 

make her quiet; for mad persons rarely regard 
fencies of one another. I have often observed that 
those, who are anxious for conversation with rational 
visitants, will not deign to speak to their miserable 
associates, because, forsooth, " they are crazy V I have 
been led about by a crazy young man, of liberal educa- 
tion, amongst a host of lunatics, and he would tell me 
the peculiar turn of each ones mind with much self- 
complacency, He would not speak to them, for u they 
are mad." 

" But what's the matter with you?" 

" Nothing at all, Sir! My friends are crazy, and 
have taken it into their heads that I am out of mv wits, 
and so have confined me." Like this youus: man, su- 
perior to the society of bedlamites, all the deranged 
females hear the songster, but seem not to hear; for 
they despise her affectation. 

The cause of her derangement was an excessive at- 
tachment to novels. She read them incessantly, and 
rejoiced at pleasures which were never experienced ; or 
wept for griefs which were never endured. What once 
was called sensibility in her, became nervous irrita- 
bility; and like Don Quixote, she believed the absurd- 
est fiction to be sober verity. A young gentleman of 
undoubted veracity informed me, that he saw her read- 
ing a few days before her senses quite forsook her, 
when she knew nothing that happened in the same room 
where she was, unless some one touched her with the 
hand, while he pronounced her name with his lips. She 
sat in the room with her mother and sister, but she 
heard not their conversation : a stranger entered, but 
her whole attention was absorbed by the history of 
some perfect lover and angelic heroine, Shortly after. 



IMPRUDENCE IN READING. 233 

she began to roam the city, and could find shady bovv- 
ers, meandering rivulets, melodious groves, and cap- 
tivating admirers, as easily as the knight of La Mancha 
discovered giants, and armies of opponents in chivalry. 



IMPRUDENCE EN READING. 

An apprentice to a baker was fond of reading; and 
accustomed himself, from the want of a candle, to read 
by the light emitted from a bed of coals, which had 
been swept from the oven. In bending forward he 
gave the blood in his system an unnatural tendency to 
the head, and this, with the heat to which his brain was 
exposed, induced delirium. After a considerable sea- 
son of singing, dancing, and wild excess, he was re- 
duced to composure. The powers of his mind have 
suffered material injury, aud his love of books is entirely 
destroyed. It has happened to him, as it does to many, 
that since his recovery, he is too fond of the maddening 
draught. This, in many cases, is either a physical evil 
produced by the previous treatment, or it results from 
the loss of that mental discernment and caution which 
keep them from too free indulgence before their faculties 
were disordered. The subject of this article is about 
twenty years old, and is in great danger of a relapse. 
A little imprudence may cause a life of madness. 

This instance should warn others, and especially 
children, who, in a lit of industry, read by the light of 
a fire. To read in the twilight, before it is sufficiently 
dark to require a lamp, is injurious ; for those who have 
attempted it must know, that it requires a painful effort, 
not only of the optical organs, but of the mind. 

D 3 



234 SLAVERY, 

The most studious and busy ought to devote some 
time to reflection ; and what part of the day is more 
suitable than that, in which all nature seems putting 
off her robes of light to retire for the night I In that 
hour, men should think without notes, and pray without 
book. 



****** +**■*** 



SLAVERY. 



* ; But ah ! what wish can prosper, or what praVr, 

44 For merchants rich in cargoes of despair, 

44 Who drive a loathsome traffic, gage and span, 

44 And buy, the muscles and the bones of man ? 

44 The tender ties of father, husband, friend, 

44 All bonds of nature in that moment end ; 

44 And each endures, while yet he draws his breath. 

44 A stroke, as fatal as the scythe of death.'' 

Cowpeh, 

That slavery should produce insanity, where the 
heart is not dead to feeling, might naturally be ex- 
pected. I could state several cases under this head, 
but shall be satisfied with two. 

The first is that of a young African, who with his 
brother was stolen a few years ago, and brought to the 
United States, where both were sold to a cruel master. 
The one, of which I write, made his escape from 
bondage, and after great anxiety and privations, arrived 
in the city of New- York. Here he was young, friend- 
less, and under constant fear of being pursued by big 
owner. The dread of being again reduced to hard 
servitude operated so powerfully on his mind as to pro- 
duce insanity. After a confinement of many months, 
he has become tolerably rational, loves to be trusted, 



THE CREOLE. 235t 

and performs any confidential duty with fidelity. He 
lives, however, in fear of slavery, and the apprehension 
of it, at times, renders him almost frantic. It is a 
singular fact, that during his derangement, he would 
assist in reducing a white maniac to obedience, but 
could never be persuaded to hold, or bind a frantic 
fellow of his own complexion. That he should dislike 
all white men is very natural. 



" O, 'tis a godlike privilege to save \ 

" And he that scorns it is himself a slave." 



The second case must excite compassion for the 
maniac, and abhorrence of the vice of her master. Last 
summer her temporal sorrows were terminated; but 
should that fashionable gentleman, who will recognize 
his own features in the lines of this memoir, i'eel some 
shame for his iniquity, when he finds his baseness made 
public, I shall not repent the disclosure. 

The young woman, of whom I speak, was a Creole, 
of that mixed complexion, which is very common in the 
southern section of our country ; and the property of a 
West-Indian planter. Her form was of surprising beauty, 
and, had her face been white, few females could have 
eclipsed her personal glory. Her master kept her for 
his mistress, and paid her such kind attentions as a 
sensualist may, to pamper his own insatiable con- 
cupiscence. Ignorant of all religious principles as him- 
self, she felt no compunction, but rather rejoiced in her 
exaltation above the lot of common servants. The 
planter not long since removed from his plantations to 
one of the United States, and brought this female with 



2Z6 THE MONSTER. 

him, that she might continue to administer to 
licentiousness. Here he found, however, that the state 
of society, corrupt as it is, would not admit of his 
familiarity with a Creole slave. There are fashions in 
lust; and the honourable monster in society must lire 
as the fashions direct. Far to the south, fashion admits 
of a downright black for a concubine ; but in the north, 
he may openly maintain, without being excluded from 
genteel company, as many prostitutes as he pleases, 
provided no one of them be tinged with the dye of 
Ethiopia. 

To conform to custom, the planter determined §o 
maintain the morality of northern bloods, and therefore 
concluded to put away his favourite. What to do he 
could not easily decide, but finally he communicated to 
her his intention of selling her. His neglect, and the 
fear of slavery, under any other circumstances than 
those to which she had been accustomed, produced 
raving, and confirmed insanity. Vain were all attempts 
to make her sane again. This was more than sin 
purchasing and selling of human blood and bone. H 
was pollution, seduction, cruelty, and death. 

'* But slavery ! — virtue dreads it as her grave : 

u Fatience herself is meanness in a slave. 

t4 Or, if the will and sov'reignty of God 

; * Bid suffer it awhile, aud kiss the rod, 

w Wait for the dawning of a brighter day, 

M And snap the chain the moment when you may,. 

" Nature imprints upon whaie'er we see, 

i% That has a heart and life in it Be free !** 



POOR HOSE ! -.37 



INCONTINENCE. 



Two instances of insanity -which have come under 
my observation, have^been caused by the incontinence 
of husbands. 

An honest, sober, industrious Irish woman, with her 
husband, came to this country, and, by selling the milk 
of a few cows, obtained a comfortable sustenance. They 
lived harmoniously, and she was the mother of several 
children. What could disturb their peace, and destroy 
their union ? A wicked woman, an artful, persuasive 
wretch gained the silly heart of the husband. He was 
caught in the net of the enchantress, and the snare of 
the fowler. With his children and the adulteress he 
fled from his injured wife. Her heart had been bound 
up in the welfare of her partner and children. Poor 
Rose! She went mad. 

It was no consolation to her, that she had a com- 
panion of similar sorrows, in the person of a blooming 
young woman, who married a son of Neptune. She 
was enterprising, and kept a boarding-house to augment 
the funds of the family. Her husband, the sailor, was 
kind, when at home, and what was his conduct ia 
foreign ports she knew not. The immediate cause of 
the madness of this female was a violation of the seventh 
commandment, by her partner. A sister, younger than 
herself, was taken into their family for protection ; for 
she was an orphan ; and the young man attempted with 
too fatal success, her destruction, This dispersed the 
family, and from grief of heart the married sister 
became insane. 

What became of the younger sister 1 



238 CURSE UPON C'tfRSE. 

Her seducer went to sea, and she was kept by a? 
married man, whose intercourse with her, caused his 
own wife to become insane. Here was line upon line, 
and curse upon curse. Well saith the scriptures, 
" Keep thee from the evil woman, from the flattery 
of the tongue of a strange woman. — For by means 
of a whoiish woman a man is brought to a piece of 
bread ; and the adulteress will haul for the precious 
life." 

Another instance of insanity is traced to the incon- 
tinence of the guilty person. She was seduced and 
went to London to make merchandize of herself, with 
more readiness than in any other place. Here she kept 
a house of ill fame ; and after hating been in Newgate 
once, stele a watch and handkerchief from a gentleman, 
who spent the night in her abode. The next day she 
sold them at a brokers shop, and was arrested. What 
a pity it is, that any who voluntarily become the com- 
panions of a raging lioness should be protected by the 
civil arm! Her visitant had his revenge. She says that 
she put her fingers into his watch-pocket, and the trinket 
stuck to them ; for which the honourable judges seat 
her to New* South Wales. After remaining there for 
some time, she found a gallant who stole her away and 
brought her to New-York. Here she lived with him, 
untill her excessive lewdness produced madness. She 
admits that she has been " out of her head, in con- 
sequence of jealousy." Her complaint has been of 
long continuance* For months she has thought herself 
the blessed Trinity, ail things past, present, and to 
come, and at the same time, the devil. These imagina- 
tions gave her inconceivable distress. After she had 
told me all this > with great agony, and with utter ab- 



INSANE FEMALES, 33$ 

liorrence of all who doubted the truth of her assertions, 
she affirmed, that she proceeded from the Father, but 
was, at the same time the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
Ghost ; and because she would not marry the Father, 
he was perpetually tormenting her. She conceived that 
her flesh was incessantly torn from her, by red hot 
pincers, and was renewed again, to prepare her for end- 
less torment. At this time, she is, indeed, the picture 
of a damned immortal. Her imaginations and tortures 
change, but she is incurable. 

Under this head I might describe, 
A wretched female, who says that she was born in 
the yellow house, at Stonington ; who thinks that devils 
are filling her body with pins and skewers ; who can tell 
the history, name, and place of residence of every per- 
son whom she sees, and who believes that all things are 
supported by her prayers. 

A wretched female, who was once beautiful; who lived 
in splendour ; who has become more insensible than 
the brutes; but who was once the mistress of that 
fallen man, whose hands still bear the stain of mur- 
der. 

A more miserable French girl; more miserable be- 
cause now rational, but unhappy ; whom I have heard 
sing with the sweetest voice, while she played a melting 
air upon her guitar, with all the soul of melancholy, ih 
the cool of evening. 

But I forbear. Sad victim of seduction ! 

" She sat beneath the birchen tree, 

" Her elbow resting on her knee ; 

" She had withdrawn the fatal shaft, 

£ * And gaz'd on it, and feebly laugh'd?' 



240 THE MANIAC'S CREED, 

Had it been possible, the feeling heart wonld hatre 
given assistance, and gladly would have restored per- 
manent tranquillity. 

u Stranger, it Is in vain !*' she cried. 
li This hour of death has given me more 
u Of reason's power than years before ; 
" For as these ebbing veins decay 
M My frenzied visions fade away. 
" A helpless injured wretch I die :" 
x Scott, 



THE MANIAC'S CREED. 

One of whom I had heard, called to see me in a 
chamber where I was writing. I did not know his per- 
son, and therefore when a stranger, respectable in ap- 
pearance, of light complexion and pleasant countenance, 
made his appearance, I thrust aside my paper, and 
formally gave him a seat. He is a man of middle 
stature, of a short neck, and full habit, who made me 
this visit. With all the deliberation of two philosophers 
we entered into conversation, and he soon made some 
observations, which induced me to resume the pen, that 
I might render permanent the maniac's creed. He was 
not displeased at it; but said, "you are welcome te 
record the past, but I must object to your penning 
any thing which I shall communicate concerning the 
future." 

u Let me beg the favour of your name then, Sir," I 
said, and with a placid face he began : 

44 People call me Little John. This is a nickname* 
Which a friend in Ireland gave me, to go to bed by; and 



THE FANCIFUL MANIAC. 241 

which I have kept, to give to my many children, who 
bear that name : but if the truth was known, I am Abel 
of old, the son of Adam/' 

Here I demanded how this could be, when the scrip- 
tures inform us, that Cain killed Abel many thousand 
years ago. 

"Oh! the Bible has committed many such mistakes, 
as I know by my own experience ; for I am that identi- 
cal Abel, and his brother only apparently killed him. 
After that affair, I appeared under the form of Joseph 
the son of Jacob, but was iVbel and Joseph too." 

" Did your brethren/' I asked, " sell you ; and was 
you actually sold in Egypt V* 

" Oh! no! there the Bible is in an error again; for I 
was only confined awhile in the iron mines in Scotland. 
Joseph's brethren never did sell him into Egypt: I 
know they did not, for I am that Joseph, and should 
not I know V 

"Joseph, however, died in Egypt/' 

" Ah ! I appeared to die ; but I did not, for I was 
afterwards Job, the patriarch. You see that I am a 
fat man, with a short neck. That's the reason, Sir, 
that Job in the primer is always represented as a short, 
thick little fellow/' 

"But tell me, where was you born V 

"Why, I have had different bodily forms; but my 
present body was born of a Dutch father, and a sort of 
Yankee mother, in Pennsylvania/' 

In like manner he lived in the old French war, and 
in the late Revolution, and perfectly remembers every 
event which any one can state from history. He is 
really not more than forty years of age, and I told him 
so ; but very deliberately he went to work, to prove bis 

x 



242 THE maniac's greed, 

assertions true, by bis own consciousness and memorv : 
He has a wife and several children. He bad property; 
but was defrauded by wicked neighbours^ and this ca- 
lamity, together with his deism, reduced him to his 
present condition. I told him I should like to know his 
religious sentiments, if he was willing to state them ; 
when he began with, 

" I believe in God, but not in Jesus Christ, A Tri- 
nity without him, if there is one, make quite enough 
persons. The story about him came from the practice 
of a printer's boy, who with wooden cuts, used to print 
an image of God, and represent a man seated at his 
right hand. This was all idolatry. 

" I believe that God lends men a part of himself to 
work righteousness with ; and for any man to go to 
church, pay his footing there, and defraud no body, is 
as good a job as he can do for his soul." 

Here I desired to know what he intended by paying 
bis footing in church. He said, u when a man steps 
upon the floor of the church, he helps to dirty it, and 
if he pays enough to enable the door-keeper to wash 
after him, he pays his footing there; which I always 
die]." Then he proceeded in his creed. 

" I believe there is such a place as heaven, where 
all these righteous persons will be happy. The wicked 
will never get there. I believe there is no such place 
as hell, although there might be; for 'tis not impossible 
that such a place should exist. Those who do not get 
to heaven, will enter into the service of everlasting 
vanitv. That will be their punishment. 

t( Finally, I believe that my wife will go to heaven, 
because she has raised a likely family of children, and 
that's all a woman has to do. v 



PUNISHMENT OF INFIDELITY. 24$ 

Thus ended his creed. He was serious through the 
whole statement, and persisted in assuring me that he 
should never die. These things he constantly affirms. 

This creed is humbly submitted to the Arian and 
Sociniau teachers in America. Relinquishing in favour 
of this, their hostility to confessions in general, it is to 
be expected that they will adopt it; and since they 
deliver the doctrines of Little John, they will do him 
the honour, so soon as their college shall be convened, 
to confer upon him the degree of Doctor of Divin- 
ity ! 

Alas! for the cradle of the sons of the Pilgrims ! 



rr* r* +***■* r* 



THE PUNISHMENT OF INFIDELITY. 

The subject of this last memoir was a native of 
L — I — , of reputable family, and of Presbyterian pa- 
rentage. In childhood he was religiously educated, 
and in youth was moral in his habits. When he became 
a young man, he read the productions of Voltaire and 
other infidel writers. Their sentiments were congenial 
to his feelings, and taught him to reason against the 
authenticity and inspiration of the Holy Scriptures. In 
consequence of his new illumination, he discovered that 
public worship was useless, and of course absented 
himself from the place where prayer is wont to be 
made. His sabbaths were spent at his father's house, 
which was a tavern, in the common business of the 
week ; and all times were alike to him. He was a punc- 
tual and prudent man in all pecuniary transactions, 
and as a neighbour, was highly respected by the inha- 
bitants of his native village. 

X 2 



244 THE DEIST ON A DEATH-BED, 

When about thirty-five years of age, he was in the 
habit of exporting produce to the West-Indies; and 
went in person, almost every summer, to carry on the 
traffic to advantage. Previous to one of his voyages, he 
visited a Mrs. C — 11, at R — y, who is unusually pious. 
He was frequently a visitor at the house of this good 
woman; but on this visit, which was in the summer, 
he was accompanied by a man whose opinions cor- 
responded with his own. They did not hesitate to dis- 
close their views of the word of God, a future state, and 
divine things. Mrs. C — 11 said, concluding her argu- 
ment with them, that she hoped they would think dif- 
ferently before it was too late. 

" It will never be too late," rejoined the deists, "for 
any but cowards !" 

In the autumn after this conversation, H — n the 
deist of whom I write, set sail with his produce for a 
southern market. While he was absent, his unbelieving 
friend was attacked with mortal disease, and shuddered 
at the thought of meeting a holy God in judgment. 
He expressed his great anxiety, and in agony of mind 
renounced his delusions. He died. On the return of 
H — n, the pious woman made him acquainted with the 
circumstances of his friend's departure from this life, 
with the desire of impressing on his conscience the 
necessity of preparing to meet before God, the Just 
One. All that H— would say, however, was this : " I 
am sorry that my friend died like a coward." 

After this admonition, for the space of two years, 
the mind of this unhappy man found little quietude 
He disputed, sometimes less against Christianity than 
formerly ; and sometimes more, with greater bitterness, 
On his passage homeward in his last voyage, his soul 



A PRESENTIMENT OF DEATH. 245 

was like the troubled sea; and when he was in the 
midst of his marine path, a storm descended heavily 
upon the ship. At a particular hour, during this tem- 
pest, he entertained a persuasion, for which he could 
not account, that his mother was dying ; and even ob- 
served the time by his watch when he thought that she 
gave up her spirit. It is not for me to account for such 
mental impressions as I have no doubt H — n actually 
felt.* Let me simply state the fact. On his arrival at 
home he found his mother dead. He told his friends 
what had been his presentiment ; and at what hour he 
thought she breathed her last breath. It proved, so 
nearly as the family can remember, that she actually 
died on the same day, and in the course of the same 
hour, which he designated. What renders this event 
more remarkable is this, that the mother was taken 
away in perfect health. She was eating, and some food 
entering the larynx, prevented any future respiration. 

The mind of H— n, from this time, became habitually 
gloomy. He felt himself guilty and wretched, but did 

* On the 9th of June, 1812, that classical speaker, that elo- 
quent orator, and that amiable man, th v e Rev. Joseph S. Buck- 
minster, of Boston, died. On this same day, the Rev. Dr. 
Buckminster, who had not heard of his son's sickness, and who 
could not have had any communication by human means, said 
to his wife, " My dear, Joseph is dead." She replied, that he 
could not know that, and that his persuasion must have arisen 
from his fond anxiety. He persisted in saying that he knew that 
his son had in that very hour expired. This proved to have been 
the fact, and on the next day, the father, a most tender father, 
and eminent minister of the Lord Jesus Christ, entered into his 
eternal rest. Many similar cases might be supported by indis- 
putable evidence. Cannot he who formed the mind communi- 
cate directly information, without the intervention of the 
senses ? 

x 3 



246 THE DEIST'S ATTEMPTS AT SUICIDE. 

not believe in Christ, the way to pardon, pease of con- 
science, consolation in tribulation, and everlasting feli- 
city. The depression of his soul soon became so great, 
that reason was banished from the seat of her dominion. 
In a frantic state of mind he stabbed his niece, whom 
he tenderly loved, because he loved her, and was ap- 
prehensive that she would starve. Three times he at- 
tempted to hang himself before he was brought to an 
asylum. Once he had suspended himself in the barn, 
and was, at the moment of suspension, discovered by 
one, who held him up until he was delivered from the 
rope. Once he hung himself to a hook in the ceiling, 
but that having become rusty, broke, and left him on 
the floor. At the third attempt he could command only 
a handkerchief and the upper corner of a door, from 
which he was protruded by involuntary struggling, be- 
fore suffocation took place. Finally he was brought to 
a benevolent Institution with his throat cut ; and was 
prevented, for a time, from intruding into the presence 
of his Judge. 

After his wounds were perfectly healed, I conversed 
with him on religious subjects, and he was perfectly 
rational, until the principles to which he assented were 
applied to his own case. 

"God is able and willing to save unto the uttermost 
all who come unto hiin." 

u That is unquestionable/' he would answer. 

"Then he is able and willing to save you/' 

u Oh ! no ! there are exceptions to all general rules ; 
and God is a sovereign : he will not save me : for, I 
have been such a sinner, that God is miserable while I 
am out of misery. I ought to suifer. It is my duty to 
suffer for ever." This was the train of bis thought, and 



THE DEIST'S HATRED OF THE BIBLE. 247 

he appeared to court misery, because it was his duty to 
suffer, that the glory of God might be promoted. In- 
deed, if there is any such thing as a desire to be 
damned for the glory of God, as some writers assert, 
H — n certainly possessed that grace ; but it was only 
in a state of insanity and indescribable misery. To per- 
form his duty, he refused to shave, and for a long time 
endeavoured to starve himself. Finally, he became quite 
resigned, and said he would permit the Lord to punish 
him as much as he pleased, without increasing the tor- 
ment by his own abstemiousness and self-denying in- 
ventions. The black man, who assisted in putting him 
into the shower bath, he conceived to be the devil ; 
and imagined that he was to stand naked, and have 
cold drops of water fall on him through eternity. He 
lived in continual dread of being everlastingly afflicted 
with vile distempers ; and from day to day proclaimed 
that to-morrow he should be in hell. 

When he was favoured with a partial respite from his 
horrors, he would read the Bible, until he came to 
something which he did not understand. Then he would 
ask explanations of his keeper, and if his remarks were 
unsatisfactory, would cast down the book with indigna- 
tion, because it was incomprehensible. 

Sometimes H — n would indulge himself for a few 
moments in cheerful conversation, and then suddenly 
check himself, and revert to his gloom, saying, " But 
this is not suitable for one who to-morrow must com- 
mence a perpetuity of torment." 

Not long previous to his death, a brother, who had 
been confirmed by him in unbelief, came to pay him a 
visit The conversation was deeply interesting and 
solemn. 



.248 SUICIDE COWARDICE. 

" Ben, you see the state I am now in ; and you know 
how I was brought to this condition. My present ago- 
nies are unutterable, and what must damnation be to a 
guilty sinner!" 

"O fudge! fudge, John! Cheer up; don't make a 
fool of yourself! Why should you trouble yourself 
about religion, and be gloomy ¥' 

" Yes, Ben, I have made a fool of myself by reading 
those accursed books, and despising the Bible. You 
cannot laugh me out of my present condition. You 
know that I am miserable now, and I tell you that my 
false ideas of religion have produced all that suffering 
which you witness. Ben, I am in hell ! O be warned 
by me I You cannot teach me anything new against 
the bible, for I taught you all the infidelity which 
you know ; but if this was my last breath, I should say 
to you, "Change your way of thinking ; for your pre- 
sent plan will not answer." 

In this strain H — n conversed with bis brother for 
more than an hour; but after all. Ben departed, say- 
ing, "Oh! poll! John, don't make a fool of yourself!'' 

One week before the death of H — n, a person in the 
next room hung himself. Some conversation arose from 
this case between H — n and his keeper. 

K. "A man must be in great agony, I think, and 
must be very bold, to enter uncalled the eternal world." 

H. " It is not boldness, but cowardice, which tempts 
men to destroy their own lives* Is not that man a 
coward who shrinks from the common lot of humanity ? 
It is really weakness, to kill one's self from dread of 
calamity, or weight of temporal suffering. Men ought 
-to bear life, and not shrink from petty evils." 

Such was bis language, and no one supposed that he 



THE DEIST COMMITS SUICIDE. 249 

retained a thought of performing the action which he 
condemned. But his sufferings he deemed unlike those 
of other men. His were the agonies of one already 
damned, who must suffer, or the eternal Judge would 
suffer. He thought Ged was in misery so long as he 
was out of hell. In an hour, therefore, when nothing 
was apprehended, he made fast his cravat to the grates 
of his window, and while his back was against the wall, 
kneeled down, at the same time bending his body for- 
ward, and strangled himself. 

M Like helpless sailors in a ship on fire, 

M He boldly plung'd to shun a fate more dire." 

But, alas ! who, that being often reproved hardeneth 
himself, can escape everlasting burnings ! Must we not 
say, concerning many who imagine that they choose 
the most favourable alternative, "in prefering death by 
your own hand, to present anguish, you become secure 
of hell r 

"........,., But his doom 

" Reserv'd him to more wrath ; for now the thought 
* c Both of lost happiness and lasting pain 
M Torments him," 



CONCLUSION. 



<+++*■•* +*•+++■+ 



The mind of the reader has now been conducted 
through many scenes of poverty, misery, and madness ; 
and if some statements should be deemed obnoxious to 
delicacy, the-*writer makes this apology, that some per- 
sons may be warned by the record of tiorrible facts, 
who would be unmoved at common occurrences. There 
are many persons, whose feelings are of a coarse tex- 
ture, who require different treatment from that which 
would be adapted to gentle souls. He would benefit 
the rough as well as the mild ; and the former, even in 
polite circles, are most numerous. The writer has sin- 
cerely attempted to avoid such allusions as produce a 
blush, while his first aim was to deter those thoughtless 
persons from vice, who are most liable to it; and if any 
reader should be conscious that he is not too delicate to 
commit gross iniquity, let him not be fastidious in his 
judgment of the Journal, 

The reader who has gained any useful information, 
may congratulate himself that he has been a witness of 
solemn scenes, without experiencing the actual incon- 
veniencies of one who has been personally concerned in 
them. It is easier to visit the sick by proxy than in 
person; and it must be more agreeable to gain the 
knowledge of some facts by reading than by actual 
observation * 



CONCLUSION, 251 

Since he has ceased to record the occurrences of the 
liay, the usual services of the stated preacher have been 
performed. Many new cases of conviction, and appa- 
rent penitence, have presented themselves ; and it is 
probable that the journal of one year, with few altera- 
tions, would describe the moral state of the Hospital 
and Almshouse for every year, in which the same reli- 
gious services should be performed. 

To those who have contributed to the support of the 
author, he presents his thanks ; for they have made him 
their almoner. It is his intention to perform in future^ 
so far as it is possible, the same sort of. service to the 
Hospital and Almshouse ; but for many reasons, which 
he would not wish to state, he takes this opportunity 
of announcing to his friends and the public, that all 
subscriptions in his favour shall be considered null from 
the 1st of January, 1312, and ever after. The payment 
of what was previously due will in no case be demand- 
ed. 

He cannot refrain from expressing a firm hope, that 
when God in his providence shall restore prosperity to 
our country, if not before, something will be done to 
render the maintenance of some successor in his office 
permanent. 

The instability of temporal property should make 
those who possess it willing to communicate, when duty 
calls; and beyond a question, this city, more distin* 
guished for religious liberality than any in our country^ 
will not allow posterity to say, " the public Hospitals 
and Almshouses of Europe, and of many cities in the 
United States, had their chaplains; but in New- York 
two hundred persons died yearly without the benefit of 
religious instruction !'' 



252 CONCLUSION-. 

In the course of two years, some of the subscribers 
have been reduced from affluence to poverty ; and who 
may not experience disappointment? Who may not be 
brought to the necessity of living on public bounty ? 
Who on his bed of death may not be thankful for a visit 
from some public preacher to the poor? 

What father, or mother, can affirm, that the children 
of the tenderest affections and most fond parental 
anxiety, may not act the part of prodigals ? Let not 
fastidiousness prevent guardians from giving timely 
warning. Let thoughtless young people learn, that 
many of the miserably afflicted beings with whom I 
have had ministerial intercourse, were once as beautiful, 
as gay, as highly favoured, as rich, and prudent as 
themselves* 



1 1 N I S. 



PRINTED BY J. HADDON, FINSBURY. 



INDEX. 



Affliction sanctified.. ^ . . . *. .-. . 19, 133, 156 

A«re, honourable , 34, 56 

Alone and not alone 75 

Almshouse, the 8!, 13S 

Asylum, a female. , 71 

Auditory, the attentive.. 29 

Audience, an infant 66 

Avarice, curse of , . 222 

Backslider, a prayer for a Ill 

Bankrupt, the Insane g97 

Bible, the well-worn 60 

the Debt's hatred of the i>A7 

Blindness, Spiritual 50 

Blind, memory of the -,..... 64^ 

, industry of the , 1-i? 

Books, the best of 1 77 

Boy, poor blind && 

Buck, narrative of an English • • • I .7 

Burial, decent desirable. . . ] 7 * 

Cases, three stated II 

Case, a hard 95 

Cases, incurable ., 102 

Carman, the drunken.. IOS 

Cautions, needful 1 84 

Caroline, an interesting starj 143, 147, 152, 1-Vj, 165.198,200 — i> 

Charity, the ill- directed. •.* • - 32 

Challenge, the , . 4\ 

Chastity, the pride of 62 

Charity explained , .•• iJ<f 

Children, noisy , .., 8*» 

Christians, obligations of K% 

Christ's righteousness , 1458 

Clerk, theblind • • * . ..... . vf> 

Cobl^r, the beneficent I6S8 

Confidence, false r , ..;. 47, 107 

Conversation, an interesting - ■ 109, 3 57, 19r» 

Conviction brought home §U& 

Company, vicious , ,,..,.. . L 2< r» 

Covetuousness, insanity of . g 5 

Creole, the . . . gS*j 

Creed, the Maniac's 240, £43 

Criminals, the.. • ■ 30 

Chaplain, reproof to a sea-far pg 150 

Curse upon curse. ?33 

Danger, safety in the mid-.-t of ; , . 149 

Daughter, the dutiful 1S5 

Death , hope in • |9J i 197 

Death-bed, the Deist on a 244- 

Death, a presentiment of. ........ , ... ..„ . , , . .......... , . . , 215 



INDEX. 

PAGE. 

Diffidence, piou?. . 20 

Distress, an aged sinner in i 16 

Disease, flattery of IS 

Dialects, mingled 83 

Disappointments. .•••*•••«« 223 

Doing good, the luxury of. 51 

, cheap way of 1 IT 

Door-keeper, the decayed 173 

Dorcas society, the . . / 150 

Drunkenness.! 2S0 

Dying, prayers offered for the.. ■ 510 

Effusion, a poetical ...211 

Elegy, an . , . . ISO, 151 

Englishman, address to an 139 

Envy, cruel • • AS 

Epistle, the friendly I£3 

Execution, the approaching 35, 45, 4$ 

Father, the careless 63 

Families, three sick.. 74 

Fable, an instructive. ...... 

.Fellowship, christian , . 38 

Females, visits to sick. i 114 

Feelings, an appeal to a mother's . 167 

Female, an abandoned • 

Females, the Insane . . .- 2:^ 

Fire, the--.;... ,. 93yf>4 

Gift, the poor woman's.., 3T 

a new year's •• 214; 

Gratitude, a token of. 213 

Health, vacation necessary for • . 124 

Heart, obduracy of the human * 171 

Hint, a seasonable 1ST 

Holy Ghost, sin against the. . . . * *- . 135 

Hopes vain 13 

Hope, ground of a sinner's • HO 

— ■ waiting in ... » * - 116 

Honour, a buck's 1-3 

Husband, the inhuman • • • ■ 43 

Humility, the pride of 172 

Hymn books, the use of. , 

Hymn, the. ...... , 51 

i the Dorcas Society IS I 

Hymn, the .Magdalen's. 1 &9 

Id i o t . the 73 

-ante, the effects of 22 

Importunity, successful &f 

raforl of the , r . 79 

r view, an unexpected H* 

rant, talents necessary in an c . . 215 

»ity.. 21* 

Incontinence 

...,«....,., ►« ■ 



IKDEX. 

PAGE, 

Infidel rebuked . , . . 40 

L , death of Miss 78 

Lad v, a fashionable .... 87 

letters 137, 110, 166, 199 

Love, insanity of . . . . 224 

, disappointed 229 

Lunatic, the unhappy , 193 

Maniacs, the 24,241 

Matron, the Scotch 77 

Magdalen, Mary „ S9 

Man, a compassionate 90 

Man, penitence of an old 118 

Magdalen hospital, the 158,203,205 

Man of colour, the devout 160 

Maid, the crazy • . . . . 228 

Sleeting, an a fleeting 205 

Mercies, gratitude for , 189 

Miner, narrative of a 143 

Monsters, the ' 23, 88, 236 

Mother, the deserted * . 92 

Mother, the an.\ious ......151 

Mortality, the progress of 157 

Murderers, tiic 25 

Morels • 231 

Object, a pitiable 91 

Cecum, Samson, anecdote of 39 

Orphan, the deserted 72 

Pardon, confession and . . . . • 121 

Patients, two Irish 148 

Patient, an interesting . • . » 190 

Pastor, the compassionate 212 

Patriot, the insane t 219 

Poor, the labour of the 32 

Prostitute, the dying * 21 

Providence, a remarkable 69 

Prospects, cheering 9§ 

Prayer, consolation in 161 

Prisoner, lines by a > 179 

Pride, insanity of » 226 

Pursuits, effects of sinful 169 

Refraction, the 42 

Regulations, new » 82 

Refuge, Christ the only 10O 

Repulse, an open , 122 

Return, a v.elco re 126 

Repentance, nature of 134 

Redemption, particular , 141 

Religion, blessed effects of ITS 

Reading, imprudence in , . . . 233 

Rose, poor 237 

Room, the preaching 96 

Sally, blind 49 



IKDEX 

i i s r 

. . . ,' 

Sailwy i : - ; i i if a . . . , , . ISO 

, depravi:;. rf a :3 

-:;:k^:::;:::.:.:: 

S :. 1 v ; 

:?: :---:. =.:. cSiz ::'.Z2. , i j 

■ . : , . 

. , : ' 

■ . 1 .:>z . . ' " 5 

:■ " ( : 

2 

Srr 

if I , . 

Serr: , . . 

Sen"- - . - .- - . 

; - • - . : . e . . . . . 16 

Shame, c 101 

SniiM 88 

c : : ■ ■ . 1 . . M 

S i 1 •'.:-: , , . . 

*.■;•• bagl fM 

Sin bring! iel . 1 13 

Sistc . 1£*J 

R :. . -' : r :.:-"". Ms of 

Slaver? - 

Soldi* &J 

Sofa. ...: . . , ; : 

S " :. . ::--...:•,., . . i '-' 

£ ng-i t e r . : ' : - i . ■ , ■ . 
arid, deal if s , , . . . 

S l : 

112 

Si cide, the Ira itk . • - 

Saicide e E I ; • ...... 

, •: ~ ~- ~ 

, the " : . 

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Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: May 2005 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 

* <s&<fP!fi&>. /f ' *P 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 

pSffftk^ * ^''r Cranberry Township, PA 16066 

^llllgL " lf> < (724)779-2111 



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